Desert Mirage
by Narnian Sprite
Summary: OC. Astrid moves to live with her brother in a remote air force base. Once the two of them realize that they can survive with just each other, they have to find out how to survive with giant alien robots.
1. Of Sisters and Airmen

Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers, I'd be rich, and I wouldn't have to sweat and strain to get the money for four years of college. However, I am very sweaty and very strained, so I think that's a negative.

A/N: Hullo again, all! This fic is dedicated to my brother, who I rarely like but always love. Here's hoping my few loyal reviewers shall find me again. Thanks to my beta reader, Mrs. Optimus Prime! Enjoy!

Chapter One: Of Sisters and Airmen

She was in the middle of nowhere. Well, not technically, she thought it might turn up on some sort of census map, but it close enough. Normally she enjoyed putting some distance between herself and the rest of 'civilization', but she did also enjoy coming home to her house in the suburbs. The military base she was now heading to was nestled next to a town that would be _lucky_ to be classified as a suburb. There were no cities for many a mile, and even fewer good libraries. It was the second of these observations that had Astrid in such a melancholy state as she bounced along in her brother's friend's car.

The massive truck rumbled beneath her as they passed by the barracks. Men and women wearing a variety of BDU's and civilian attire were rushing around to take full advantage of their free time or marching into lines for evening review. Beside her, Captain William Lennox was flipping casually through the radio stations with one hand resting almost carelessly on the wheel. From time to time one of the soldiers they passed would wave at the occupants of the big black truck, and Captain Lennox would slow down just enough to acknowledge them in return. Astrid was a little more subdued, but she was still smiling, and Will had her talking... even though she'd been left to rot at the luggage claim.

"So, what was your brother's excuse for not showing up this time?" he asked.

"Oh, the usual," Astrid replied.

"And what's the usual?" said Will.

"He forgot."

Will chuckled. It sounded like something he might have done, years ago, before he had a family to care for. He'd learned that forgotten wives tended to get a little testier than forgotten sisters.

It didn't take long to reach their destination after that. A group of men were walking back from the mini mall, talking and laughing as Will pulled up and parked the truck. Epps gave Will a wave, saw Astrid, paused, and broke into uncontrolled laughter. A couple other men looked over and started snickering until finally one of their number turned around and saw what had caused his friends such amusement. His ears flushed almost instantly and he ducked swiftly out of the conversation. Quickly, he walked over and gave Astrid a hug.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," said Astrid.

"Uh... looks like I forgot again, huh?"

"Yeah, just a little bit," Astrid agreed.

"Dang, man," Will said, hoisting Astrid's suitcase out of the back, "forgetting to pick her up from school is one thing, but the _airport?_"

"You're slacking, Fenner," said Epps.

"Oh, come on, you didn't remember, either," Fenner grumbled.

"Jeremy, could you possibly give me a lift to your house?" Astrid asked, swinging her backpack onto her back. "I think Captain Lennox has done enough for one day, and you _are_ my brother you know."

"Yeah, right, sure," said Jeremy. "Let's go." He bent down and snatched up her bag before leading the way towards his own car.

"Hey," Will shouted after them, "Astrid! Let me know if he forgets you again and I'd be glad to give you a ride!"

"Will do, and thanks!" said Astrid.

"And don't forget the picnic!" Epps added.

"We won't!" said Jeremy.

Astrid leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes as they pulled away from the barracks. "It really stinks to be stranded at the airport, you know."

"Yeah," her brother sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It's ok, just don't forget next time." She let the silence sit for a minute before asking, "What picnic?"

"Oh, you know... just some of the guys and their families getting together..." Jeremy trailed off.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Astrid groaned, letting her face drop into her hands. "Couldn't you just give me a week without any of that kinda stuff before initiating me into the gang?"

"In my defense," Jeremy replied, "this was planned a long time before... before you had to come."

"Nothing we can do about it now, I guess," Astrid shrugged. "What's going on exactly?"

"Nothing much, just a picnic up at the look-out," said Jeremy. "It's nice up there, you should like it. And there'll be lots of food. Kind of a pot-luck deal."

"So what are we taking?"

"Uh... I was kind of hoping you could make something," Jeremy said.

"And when is this picnic?"

"Tonight."

"Aw, you are such a jerk."

.O.O.O.

The sun was just setting over the lookout, and the city below was perfectly illuminated in red with bright highlights of gold. Families were trickling in and the strong scents of freshly cooked dishes pervaded the air. Beauty, laughter and friends. All in all, a perfect evening.

At least, that's what Optimus thought as he looked out over the scene. His friends, old and new had all gathered together to socialize and simply enjoy each others' company. Granted, he and his men couldn't reveal themselves in their true forms, but still, everyone who needed to know he was there knew and he was free to watch the humans interact. Most of the transformers residing on Earth were there anyway, and they were happy to carry on a conversation through their comm channels whenever one of their number got bored. He could have been there without any of his men with him, though and still enjoyed himself. The humans were a truly incredible species. He had seen them fight as hard and as well as any transformer unit, and now he was starting to see them in an entirely new light. They had such a passion for beauty and the finer things in life. Art and music were highly thought of in nearly every culture and great effort was put into training up the next generation's artists. High schools, the last required form of schooling for children, were filled with instrumental groups, physical art classes and vocal music troops. Whether or not they even knew it, practically every human being that he'd come into contact with was somehow involved in the arts.

How Megatron could have ever wanted to exterminate this species was beyond him. It was true that they weren't so large and powerful as the transformers, but they were so incredibly beautiful. They loved one another almost through instinct, they sang or whistled when they were happy, and their soulful expressions could be seen everywhere in artwork and musical creations. Even their language had been honed into an art.

His thoughts were disturbed as Ironhide pulled up with the Lennox family.

As Sarah, Will's wife, pulled little Annabelle out of her babyseat another car pulled up, and one of Captain Lennox's friends, Jeremy Fenner, popped open his door. When, after several minutes, he had not climbed out, Optimus noticed a second passenger in the car and sharpened his audio receptors.

"Come on, Astrid," Jeremy said.

"Go on, I'll come out eventually," said the girl.

"Astrid..."

"Just give me a minute, Jer, I'll be out in a just a sec."

Jeremy nodded and finally got out of the car, leaving the girl to take her time. As Will Lennox passed by, Optimus asked him quietly, "Captain Lennox?"

"How can I help you, sir?"

"It's Optimus," corrected the semi truck. "I believe you humans connect friendship with addressing one another by your first designations."

"Fine, I'll call you Optimus if you call me Will," replied the army man.

"Certainly, Will. I have a question," said Optimus. "Who is the young woman with Airman Fenner? Their behavior does not seem to fit that of a 'couple'."

"That's because they're not," said Will, leaning against Optimus's bumper. "Astrid is Jeremy's little sister. She's come to visit for the weekend before she makes the move."

"Why would she move to live with her brother?"

"Their, uh, their parents were in a wreck about a month ago, and guardianship passed to Jeremy," said Will.

"I am sorry."

"Yeah, me too," Will nodded. "They've both taken it really well, but, ah, Jeremy's still having issues adjusting to the new role. He forgot Astrid at the airport when she came."

"How could one forget their own sibling?" Optimus inquired.

"Force of habit." Will shrugged. "I don't really know. He's just used to living on his own, I guess. It'll take them a while to get used to spending so much time together again."

Will moved off after a couple more minutes and Optimus continued to watch the girl. She was maybe a year or two younger than Sam and Mikaela, but she was strikingly different. Her hair was much longer, and her clothes looked something like how the 'hippies' from several decades past had dressed. As he tried to puzzle out the meaning behind her choice of attire, she climbed out of the car, a large messenger bag on her shoulder, and started towards him.

To his surprise she didn't continue on past him to join the others. Instead, she sat down near his bumper and pulled out a thick pad of paper and a box of pencils from her copious bag and began to sketch. The book was already at least halfway filled, and judging by the rate she was drawing, Optimus didn't think that the rest of paper had long to wait.

'_Who's the girl, Optimus?'_ Ratchet asked over the com.

'_The younger sibling of Jeremy Fenner,'_ he replied.

At that moment Sarah, Captain Lennox's wife, walked over and thrust a hand casually towards the seated teenager.

"Hi," she said. "I'm..."

"Sarah Lennox," said Astrid. She looked up from her growing sketch with a smile. "Yes, I saw you get out of the car with the captain. Pleased to meet you. You have a beautiful baby."

"Why thank you!" Sarah exclaimed. "And I gather you're Jeremy's sister, Astrid."

"Yep."

"Care to join us?" asked Sarah.

Although Astrid had already shaken hands with the woman, Sarah kept her palm open and inviting a foot or so away from Astrid's face. For a moment the two of them paused, one offering an invitation and one wavering on whether or not to accept it. Then, suddenly, Astrid beamed and accepted the hand. Sarah hoisted the girl to her feet and ushered her towards where the others were gathered around the food and cooing over her little girl.

As she walked, Astrid packed her things back into her bag, and Sarah took the opportunity to ask, "Do you like to draw a lot, then?"

"Oh, no, not a lot, just a bit of sketching," Astrid said. "I'm into a lot of stuff."

Optimus kept an audio sensors peeled as the girls moved farther away, knowing that his comrades were doing the same, curious as he was about the latest addition to the thriving military base.

"What kind of stuff?" Sarah asked, keeping the conversation going.

"Well, I like to sketch, as you saw, and I like to sing, and act when my friends bother me enough... Guess you could say that I'm just into a lot of different things."

"Sounds like it," said Sarah. "Now let me introduce you to Annabelle..."

.O.O.O.

Astrid woke up to the annoying noise of her alarm beeping incessantly from the coffee table. For some reason she'd forgotten to turn the blasted thing off before she went to sleep the night before. The party had gone well, but jet lag was a nasty thing, and by the time Astrid crashed on the couch she'd been more than ready to get some shut-eye. Jeremy had set her up in their new and scantily furnished front room while he tripped off to his own, where the air mattress awaited his arrival. Astrid cracked her eyes open to the view the pre-morning gloom ( stupid clock wasn't even set on the _local_ time...), and promptly dropped face-first back into her pillow.

The plan had been quite simple. Astrid finished highschool, then Astrid got scholarships and borrowed a bit of money to go and attend college for four years, utilizing one of her numerous artistic skills. Astrid opening the door to find a cop apologetically explaining that her parents weren't coming back from their anniversary date was not in the plan. Unfortunately, that was just what had happened, and now she had to move all the way out west to live with her brother, who was clearly just as thrilled with the situation as she was. It wasn't that he wasn't as sad as she was, and it wasn't that he was jerk. He was just used to living on his own in the military equivalent to a dorm room, as he had for the past few years, and now he'd had to swap around and live in one of the basic family housing units on base. Needless to say, Jeremy didn't really _want_ to give up his late nights or learn to guard his pocketbook in order to provide for a growing teenage girl. The only consolation for the two of them was that it would only be for one year. Then they could both go back to their original plans. Astrid doubted a college would hesitate long to fork over most of the dough to get her through, considering her shining volunteer record and straight A grades. And of course a good sob story that made the college look good by giving her a full ride never hurt anyone, either.

Still, Astrid was desperately unhappy, though she tried not to let Jeremy see. She missed her old house. There was no way she could do the traditional senior activities at her school, and her friends... She didn't want to think about her friends.

With a muted groan, she swung her legs over the side of the couch and looked dimly around the dark living room. All the stuff she'd crammed in her bags was now scattered around the space, making it look like the world's worst (and largest) dorm room. The alarm clock that had woken her so inconsiderately was on a table her brother had salvaged from a local thrift store in his hour of need, and on the floor next to it sat a hefty pile of books. Attached to the room was the kitchen, and even the sloppy teen was forced to grimace from at _its_ condition. A teenager and a twenty-odd-year-old Air Force recruit were hardly the ideal culinary artists. Or the most adept clean-up crew.

Painful memories, both recent and old, suddenly flooded her, and Astrid gave up the rest of her night's sleep. She dressed quickly and left the house before her brother woke up to go for a jog around the neighborhood. There were still a lot of details she was sketchy on concerning military protocol and how she was supposed to behave while on base, but at the moment she didn't care if she broke some high-faluting rule by taking a run at three A.M. She needed the release, and someone would probably wind up paying if she didn't get it. Without further debate she tugged on her sneakers and headed for the door.

Her feet beat the pavement rhythmically as she pursued her imaginary goal line down the quiet street. There was very little chance of bumping into anyone who was off duty, or _on_ duty for that matter. Not that there was anyone living on base that she'd know, but still, it was comforting to believe that she was alone with nothing but her thoughts and her running shoes for once.

Once she'd found the beat of her stride Astrid's thoughts began presenting themselves in far greater order than they had when she first awoke. With her body in motion, it was easier to use logic rather than her raw and chaffing emotions.

It wouldn't be an easy transition for anyone involved. While she didn't want to move, her friends didn't want her to leave either, and goodness knew Jeremy was too busy finding his own path as an adult now to deal with his flash from the past sibling. On the other hand, she knew, honestly, that she wouldn't be alone. Captain Lennox had already showed her a friendly face, and they'd been introduced by her brother over the computer before she even came to the base. Mrs. Lennox was shaping up into a good comrade as well. Still, though, there were some groups and individuals from her old home that she knew she'd never be able to find replacements for.

Feeling much calmer and resigned to her fate, Astrid trotted back up to the door of the very small house she was to share with her brother. At least it was only for a year.

A/N: Hit the pretty blue button. You know you want to.


	2. Of Moving Caravans and Difficult

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. If I did, I'd have a way cooler mode of transportation.

A/N: so, here's the point: I'm leaving for college tomorrow and will be stressed enough without self-bashing due to the low review rate of this fic. If you want it to stay up and keep going, I'm going to need some feedback.

Chapter 2: Of Moving Caravans and Difficult Decisions

It had been a long day at the Autobot's base, and Optimus Prime left the control room with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. Two more signals had been detected en route to Earth. Over the past year there had been several new additions to the growing Autobot hub. Prowl had come first, always prompt to answer his leader's call, and the twins had followed in his wake. Others had come as well, some settling down with a specific human clan, as Bumblebee and Ironhide had elected, and some staying with their compatriots. There were, of course, still plenty who had chosen to remain in the base and cause Prowl more than enough trouble to keep him occupied. Optimus wondered where the new arrivals would wind up in their new home.

Pausing in his march down the hallway, the massive leader turned his head towards the tempting noises coming from the rec room. A bit of energon would be more than welcome, and some friendly conversation wouldn't be out of place, either. He decided that his berth could wait an hour or two, and swivelled instead towards the open doorway.

Optimus was not the only one, it seemed, who had taken to the laid-back relaxation of the rec room to undo the day's knots. Among the mechs gathered there, he spied Bumblebee and Jazz speaking eagerly together over portions of energon. Although he spent most of his time with Witwicky, Bee did enjoy swinging by the base from time to time, and there were few things that gave him more pleasure than conversing with Jazz, who had only recently been cleared by Ratchet to leave the medbay. The silver mech's recovery and resuscitation were nothing short of miraculous, but by now that word just meant that another event was added to Ratchet's growing list of contributions.

But while he would have liked to sit and talk with a few of his mechs, Optimus had the sneaking suspicion that most would be unable to truly relax with him sitting just across the table. Bee and Jazz wouldn't have had that problem, but he had no wish to disturb them, so he scanned the crowd for another possible companion. His eye landed on Captain Lennox, presently the only human in the crowd of bipedal machines. The man was glued to the papers spread out in front of him, and he didn't even realize he had company until Optimus was folding himself down into one of the chairs set next to the raised human eating area. The area had been cleverly devised by Wheeljack, who had arrived shortly after Prowl, in order to keep the humans from getting underfoot in the often rambunctious rec room... literally.

"Good evening, Will."

The man started at the unexpected voice, looking up a little sheepishly and trying to shuffle the papers out of sight. Optimus chuckled.

"If the twins discovered that you had brought your work with you into the recreation center I believe you would be in for a difficult time," said Prime.

"Probably," Will laughed. "But..." he waved towards the uncompleted forms, "this stuff just never stops coming."

Optimus frowned, the shutters around his optics narrowing. "Do you not spend a large portion of your days solely on such official documents?"

"Yeah, but the guys in Washington don't seem to understand that my job is not limited to the desk," said Lennox. He sighed tiredly, combing his fingers back through his hair. "I think I need an assistant. When I first got this position it was just the five of you that I had to work with, but now... there are just way too many details for one man to handle."

"Perhaps you have come up with a wise solution, then," Optimus noted. "There must be someone in your military that your government would be willing to give the needed clearance."

"That's my problem," Lennox said, laughing uneasily. "You know Fenner, right? Of course, you've seen him a couple times. But, anyway, I was leaning towards taking him to help me out here, but now with his sister and all..."

"Captain Lennox," said Optimus, "may I remind you that you yourself have a family to care for?"

"True," sighed Lennox. "But still...I don't know. Maybe you're right. I'd like your opinion on him first, though, just to get a little extra input."

"Of course," Optimus rumbled. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well..." Will scratched his chin. "I don't know how you'd feel about this, but..."

.O.O.O.

Astrid went back to her home, which was located halfway across the country, with brother in tow. There wasn't much time to do anything but pack, and Astrid tried not to focus on all the people she would have to say goodbye to through an e-mail, or all her favorite places in town that she'd be unable to visit just one last time. It ripped, it really did. Being an emotional wreck would almost be preferable to this cold, efficient machine that she'd become. However, with a whole house to empty out and either move into storage or stick into moving boxes there was little time to feel much of anything.

She had to be careful with what she picked to take with her. All of her personal junk would go, of course. She would have her own bedroom, and all the assorted odds and ends she'd gathered over the years could easily fit inside. It was the furniture in the rest of the house that she and Jeremy had to pick and choose with. Before they'd left, they'd taken careful measurements of each room in their little house, and in the evenings they would sit there arranging little measured pieces of cardstock on piece of chart paper as they dined on cold pizza and luke-warm tap water.

A few days after they began to wage war on all the useless stuff that seemed to have bred in the dark corners of the house like vermin, a small caravan arrived in the street outside. As she was carrying what felt like the thousandth box down the stairs, Astrid glanced tiredly out the window. When she saw the vehicles waiting outside she did a double-take.

"Uh, Jeremy? Were you expecting company?"

"Yeah!" Jeremy shouted from the other room. "Captain Lennox volunteered to help us move!"

"Well... from the looks of things... he brought half the army with him," Astrid replied.

Jeremy came from the back room, discarding the old card table he'd been dismantling, and peeked out over the top of Astrid's head.

"Wow."

Parked in their driveway was the biggest truck Astrid had ever seen along with a large Hummer clearly designed for rescue operations, and stopped out in the street was a _semi_. Granted, it had a smaller trailer than that sort of truck usually hauled, but, still, it was a _SEMI_.

About that time the three drivers appeared from their vehicles, and the two young people ogling the flashy cars from the window closed their mouths and started towards the door. Will Lennox had driven the truck, which Astrid recognized from the picnic and occasional glances around base. The semi and Hummer, however, carried two men that Astrid had never seen before. When Jeremy opened the door for them, scraping and bowing as was customary in the presence of a superior officer, Astrid was sure to hang back by the stairs until she got a feel for the strangers.

The semi's driver was very tall with dark hair and startlingly blue eyes. Physically he was rather intimidating, and he gave off a vague impression of command and leadership that urged one to salute and come to attention. He didn't look bad, though, and Astrid moved on to look over the second stranger. This one also had the funny blue eyes, but he was slightly shorter, his face more weathered and his hair lighter. He reminded her more than anything in the world of a certain math teacher she'd had many years before in middle school.

Although Astrid wondered whether her long observations had been taken as rude, her mind was put to rest as she realized that the two men seemed almost entirely focused on her brother. Jeremy seemed flattered by the attention, and he kept repeatedly thanking them for volunteering their vehicles and their time for such an unimportant thing as helping him move.

"It was no trouble," the tall man said in a pleasantly resonant voice. "We were glad to be of service."

"Any young man who steps up to defend his country as you have deserves any help we can offer," the Hummer-driver put in.

There were a few more polite words exchanged, hands shaken and explanations offered. During the whole encounter, Jeremy's younger sibling stayed on the sidelines, waiting for some sort of introduction to the fray.

"Oh!" Will said, finally noticing Astrid. "Gentlemen, this is Astrid, Airman Fenner's sister."

"A pleasure to meet you," said the tall one.

"Astrid, these are a couple of friends of mine, Prime and Ratchet," Lennox introduced.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

Off to the side, Jeremy stood scratching his head. "Uh, as nice as it is for you guys to volunteer and all, I have no idea where we're going to put you tonight... to sleep I mean..."

"Don't trouble yourself," Ratchet said. "We're perfectly happy to sleep in our vehicles."

"We'd be happy to dig out some air mattresses or something for you," Astrid offered. "Our house is a bit of a wreck at present, as you can see, but I'd hate to be a bad hostess."

"We will be perfectly fine, Miss Fenner," Prime said kindly. "You have enough troubles at present without worrying about us. We did not come to make a nuisance of ourselves."

Astrid looked relieved, but she struggled not to show it. "If you're sure..."

"Positive," said Ratchet.

"Now that we have that settled," Will declared, clapping his hands, "what can we move for you?"

At that moment there came another tap from the door, which still stood open to the summer warmth. Both movees and movers turned to see a young woman lounging against the doorframe, blinking almost owlishly at the strangers.

"Sorry, didn't know you had company," she said.

"It's ok, Jenna, come on in," said Astrid, stepping forward quickly to usher in her friend. "They're just here to help us move."

"Oh, alright, then," she said. "I actually came for the same reason... well, to help you pack up the last few odds and ends at least."

"Come on up," Astrid said, jerking her head towards the staircase. "Jeremy, if you don't mind...?"

"No, of course not, go on," said Jeremy.

With a nod and smile to the guests, Astrid vanished off after her friend. When she reached her room, she found Jenna walking around, taking in all the things that still needed packing.

"It's just clothes for the most part," Astrid said.

"And a few nick-knacks," Jenna observed.

Astrid turned and saw Jenna nod towards the row of pictures still standing out on her desk. All those containing her parents had been the first things to be buried in the bottom of a box, but there were still a lot to remind her of the good old days with her friends. There was one especially depicting herself and Jenna on a roller coaster at a local amusement park. Both of them had their mouths open in a timeless, soundless scream as they clenched their arms around each other in the face of imminent death. Clearly, the photo was posed, carefully timed as the car raced down the first hill, but that just made it all the more special in Astrid's eyes. It was a bit of a tradition she shared with Jenna.

Stepping around her friend, Astrid picked up the photo, frame and all, and offered it to Jenna.

"I want you to have it," she said.

"If you're sure," said Jenna.

"I am."

Smiling, Jenna reached out and carefully relieved Astrid of the treasured item. "You know I'll just post this on Facebook now, right?"

"Do and die."

The two girls worked in nearly perfect tandem for a while, emptying out Astrid's dresser and closet. All the clothes were carefully folded and loaded into one of two large suitcases lying out on the stripped bed. Jenna, being the more orderly of the two, was in charge of folding whatever Astrid brought her way. Things were going very smoothly, too smoothly considering the circumstances, when suddenly there was a quiet gasp from the closet, and Jenna turned from her work to see Astrid standing there, a long, glittery prom dress hanging from her hands.

"Guess I won't be needing this anymore," she said.

Carelessly, she tossed it on the bed with the clothes to be set out for the Salvation Army. Jenna looked from her friend to the dress and back again. She knew Astrid too well to fall for such a show of bravo, and she moved quietly around the bed to pick up the dress and gently smooth it out.

"No," she said quietly, "you should keep it."

The dress was lovely, appropriately termed by Astrid as the 'princess dress'. She was a notoriously picky shopper when it came to clothes, and she and Jenna had stumbled on the dress only a few weeks before her parents' accident. For once in her life, Astrid had done something impulsively, snatching up the dress and whisking off to the check-out counter after she'd discovered how well it fit. Now the gown was just another pretty dream tossed on a growing pile of discards. But Jenna refused to let her friend throw _everything_ away.

"I won't be going to any proms in that tiny little military compound," Astrid pointed out, although her voice was notably weaker. "Why bother?"

"You never know," Jenna said, folding the dress and placing it carefully in the suitcase. "Maybe I'll kidnap you and bring you back for ours."

.O.O.O.

They hit the road the next day, loading the trucks late into the night and celebrating by falling limply into bed. When Will awoke the next morning he stirred to the smell of fresh coffee and something that smelled suspiciously like fresh doughnuts. He rose quickly, used to sudden wake-up calls in the army, and dressed before trotting into the kitchen. There he found Astrid sticking last minute items into the smaller bags and espied a box of what looked to indeed be doughnuts.

"'Morning!" she said. "Grab some food. The coffee just finished brewing."

"Thanks," said Will. As he chewed on one of the tasty and thoroughly unhealthy pastries (Ratchet would be sure to kill him later), he frowned in thought. "Did you go and get these yourself?"

"Yep," Astrid said. "Wasn't a big deal, though. There's a little shop that sells those things just around the corner. And, besides, I didn't want to make a mess cooking breakfast when we're going to be leaving immediately afterwards."

"Good point."

Jeremy stumbled in a few minutes later, dressed but stumbling and bleary eyed.

"Good thing you're not driving," Will chuckled, taking a deep swig of coffee.

The younger man grumbled incoherently and fumbled his way through pouring himself a cup of the caffeine-saturated brew. Astrid looked to Lennox with a grin.

"He'll be better once the coffee kicks in," she said.

"What about you?" Will asked. "Want a cup?"

"Ick, no, thanks," Astrid said, wrinkling her nose. "That stuff's nasty."

"Suit yourself," Jeremy mumbled. "... Shorty."

"I am not short!"

"You're not?" Will asked.

"No," Astrid quipped, "I'm vertically challenged."

"Whatever," said Jeremy. "So, who's riding in what?"

"We can all fit in the truck." Will shrugged. Smirking, he added, "We'll all be really sick of each other by the time we get home, though."

"I would be more than happy to drive one of the Fenner siblings in the semi."

All three of the room's occupants jumped and turned to see Prime standing in the doorway. Will, being a little more used to the unexpected, was the first to recover, and Astrid was soon too busy laughing at her brother to remember the shock.

Wiping off the coffee he'd sprayed all over himself, Jeremy laughed. "Jeez, sneaky much? I'm good with the pick-up. Thanks, though."

"Astrid?" Will asked. "It's up to you, but I cannot be responsible for my actions after more than five hours of driving."

Astrid shuffled her feet and began studying the fake tile of the kitchen floor with ridiculous intensity. Would it be rude to not ride with the captain? Would she really be able to stand her brother for so long a time? That decided her. Reaching a decision, she looked up shyly and said with a weak smile, "If you're sure I wouldn't just be a pain."

"I may not know you very well, Miss Fenner," Prime said, "but I am confident that you could not be a pain to me if you _tried_."

"All settled then?" Will clapped. "Alright! Then let's get the rest of this stuff in the cars and get on the road!"

A/N: Just a note, the random friend isn't as random as she seems. She WILL be coming back later in the fic... if this fic stays up.

GodisGodandIamnot: Great to hear from you! Out of curiosity, what typos? I went over it twice and my beta read through it, as well. I'd appreciate it if you could take a minute and point them out for me! I think it's great that your sister is going in! Thanks very much for your review, and hopefully we'll get to talk again soon!


	3. Of Coining and First Days

Disclaimer: If owned Transformers I'd be driving around in Bumblebee, not mooching rides to and from college.

A/N: Greetings from the non-air conditioned dorm room! I never knew I'd be so happy for cooler weather! So, not much response on this fic. If I don't get more I'm gonna probably can it and wait for some fresh material. So... REVIEW! It isn't that difficult!

Chapter Three: Of Coining and First Days

Aishe had come to the conclusion that she liked big trucks. For the first fifteen minutes or so she'd been a bit disconcerted by the distance to the ground, but once she got used to the different level of the cab and the humming throb of the engine she found herself enjoying the ride. It was nice to be the one looking out over the tops of all the other little cars instead of worrying about being squashed by the big, bad semi for once.

Prime wasn't much of a talker, but Astrid didn't mind because she was cut from the same cloth in that respect. Her parents had frequently teased her about her strange silence in the car, especially considering how chatty she could be normally. For whatever reason, she felt like she could let her mind wander when on the road. The rushing scenery gave her the feeling that she was doing something, so her get-to-it attitude was appeased, and yet she really had nothing better to do than daydream.

After about an hour, though, Astrid felt that she needed to say _something_ or else the driver would think she was an introvert.

"Nice truck," she said. "Thanks for letting me ride with you."

Her statement couldn't be considered a lie, either. Astrid might not know much about semis, but, judging by the pristine condition of the vehicle, both interior and exterior, she thought such an assumption was a safe bet.

"You are welcome," Prime rumbled, chuckling deep down in his chest. "I did not think it wise to leave Captain Lennox trapped in the same vehicle as two siblings for a trip of such long duration."

"Got that right," said Astrid. "Do you have siblings?"

"One," said Prime in a much softer voice than he'd used before. "He is dead."

"Oh... Oh, I'm sorry," Astrid apologized awkwardly. "I didn't mean to..."

"It is not a problem, Miss Fenner," Prime said, looking over to smile reassuringly at her.

"Yeah, we have to do something about that," Astrid mumbled, adjusting her position in her seat.

"Do something about what?" Prime asked.

"My name," said Astrid. "It's not 'Miss Fenner'. If I was a grade school teacher and you were a little squirt with messy hair, _then_ it would be 'Miss Fenner'. As things stand, it's Astrid. The only people who call me by my last name are my highschool teachers, and since most of them are relaxed enough to go by their students' first names, the last name is a really bad sign."

"Very well, then, Astrid," said Prime. "I will address you by your first name."

"Thanks. I was starting to feel old."

Prime laughed, seeming to enjoy a bit of a private joke with himself, and Astrid felt herself loosening up.

"So, I have a question," she said.

"You may ask," said Prime.

"What's with the Hummer?"

"Hmm? I am afraid I do not understand your meaning."

"The Hummer, Mr. Ratchet's car," Astrid elaborated. "Why is it part of this little moving party? Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful that Mr. Ratchet volunteered and all, but _why?_ If we'd gotten creative we probably could've packed everything into the trailer attached to just your truck and used Captain Lennox's car for passengers."

"Ratchet is... a very good friend of mine," Prime replied, "and of Captain Lennox. We did not know how much there would be to move, so we chose to risk having a little too much in the way of transportation rather than risk underestimating the amount of belongs you would be bringing."

"That... makes sense," said Astrid. Idly, she crossed her legs and, looking out the window, commented, "You know something? Mr. Ratchet reminds me of Doctor McCoy."

"I had never... considered that comparison," Prime said, the laughter back in his voice.

"I don't know why, but he does," Astrid said sheepishly. "Sorry. This is what happens when one is raised by a Trekkie."

"May I inform him of your... simile?" asked Prime.

"Sure,"Astrid shrugged, "just so long as he's not the type to get mad at me over something like that."

"Oh, I do not believe he will take offense," Prime assured her.

"Feel free, then," said Astrid.

They rode in silence for a while longer, though it was a far cry from the uncertain edginess that had pervaded the cab earlier.

After another hour or so had passed, Astrid said off-handedly, "I never thought I'd say such a thing, but your semi is really..._cool_."

.O.O.O.

Outside of a small roadside diner, two men with bright blue eyes watched their human companions eat their dinner through the glass plane of the window. Both holoforms leaned back against the grills of their respective vehicles, their arms crossed loosely across their chests. Their third comrade was sitting beside them silently, unable to use a holoform due to the fact that William Lennox was supposed to be the one doing the driving. A stranger appearing from thin air in such a deserted location would be more than slightly suspicious.

Of the three, Ratchet was the only one who could claim an entirely quiet ride. Optimus had not encountered any problems with Astrid, and found her peculiarly quiet for one of her age and gender. Ironhide, on the other hand, had listened to rather loud human music for almost the entire day, along with the two men's occasional prattling to boot. Surprisingly, though, he wasn't in a bad mood. As it turned out, he'd enjoyed the music, and the two military men had discussed little besides explosives and weapons technology.

Ratchet's holoform's shoulders shook as he chuckled at Optimus's tale of keeping the inquisitive teenager off the scent of suspicion.

"She says you remind her of McCoy from the old human entertainment series _Star Trek_," Optimus said.

Ratchet chuckled again, looking in fondly at the humans. "She's a clever one, that's for certain. She has no idea how close she is to the mark, and yet her instinct guides her without a glitch."

There came a crackling over the comm system, and both holoforms assumed slightly vacant looks as their true selves listened in on the transmission.

"_I like her brother,"_ Ironhide rumbled._ "He's a real soldier. Lennox should bring him in."_

"I agree," Ratchet said aloud. "What about you, Prime?"

"The boy is young, but he is skilled at his work and on friendly terms with Lennox," said Prime. "I do not think it would be a bad arrangement. And with his only relative living in the middle of a human military compound there would be little need for concern on her part."

"I concur," said Ratchet.

"Still," Prime said, "it is the captain's decision."

"Of course," said Ratchet. "And he still has another whole day to make up his mind."

.O.O.O.

By the time the caravan arrived at the base, the humans were itching to get out and stretch their legs. Astrid talked them into moving all the junk in right away, though, so that the chivalrous but probably exhausted Mr. Prime and Mr. Ratchet could get home in time for a bite to eat. Naturally, such considerations were totally unneeded considering the Transformers' true selves, but the two older mechs smiled fondly on the young woman's consideration regardless.

At least Will was able to talk the weary duo from trying to whip up dinner for themselves in their new home, which was now buried by an armada of cardboard boxes. With a couple calls on his cell phone and a whispered conversation with his car, Captain Lennox arranged a small but very welcome dinner out with a few friends to celebrate the new family on base. The restaurant of choice was a mid-sized affair of the common bar and grill hybrid which provided good, thick burgers with lots of toppings, well-cooked wings and an impossibly large plasma tv that constantly ran the latest sports event. It was crowded and rather noisy, but after the quiet boredom of a two day drive, the ruckus was welcome.

About halfway through the meal, Epps, who'd been invited by Lennox, got an evil smirk on his face and reached casually in his pocket. Bringing his fist down hard on the table, he slammed a heavy airman's coin on the smooth and shiny wood, challenging Fenner to do likewise. Fenner, though, while still a little green, was not new to this routine, and easily responded in kind with his own coin. Epps swore and muttered, though the cocky grin on his face betrayed his pleasure to the young man.

"Guess I'm buyin' drinks," he said.

"Guess you are," said Fenner, grinning like a madman.

Epps opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly there was another muted _thwack_ on the table, dimmed by the surrounding cacophony, and his eyes shot over to where a third coin lay glimmering innocently next to Airman Fenner's. The technical sergeant blinked at it dumbly, finally looking at the small, feminine hand resting beside it.

"You have a- a coin?" he choked, looking up to see Astrid's barely controlled smile of victory.

"Yep," she said, taking a long sip from her cup. She paused thoughtfully a moment, and then said, "Looks like that'll be two drinks you're buying. I like pop, especially cream soda, but I'll settle for any kind of Dr. Pepper rip off."

Sarah Lennox, who had come at her husband's call with little Annabelle in tow, was now doubled over the table, enjoying the poor man's humiliation. Will himself seemed to be finding more humor in the situation than a good friend should, and Jeremy was just leaning back in his chair with the self-satisfied air of a proud brother.

"Dang," Epps said as he pulled out his wallet and waved over the waitress, "I just got coined by your _sister_... "

"His _little_ sister," Lennox corrected.

.O.O.O.

After the several days' leave granted to him to get his new living arrangements in order, Jeremy Fenner was forced to return to work, though he did so this time with considerably greater enthusiasm. The day after Epps had been coined by his baby sister, Captain Lennox turned up at their front door again, only this time he came to offer Jeremy a new position. He talked with the captain alone once Astrid was out of the house, and was gravely informed that he was allowed to turn down this assignment, that it really _wasn't_ an assignment until he said yes, but once he made his decision, there would be no turning back. Lennox was also careful to mention that pretty much everything he'd be doing was totally classified, and he would be expected to keep his sister in the dark. Being the boy he was, Jeremy practically leapt at the opportunity of doing anything that even dabbled in the top secret area, and he'd nearly accepted before Lennox could even explain what he'd be doing.

"It's not a desk job, exactly," said Lennox, "but there is paperwork. Really, that's why I'm offering you this. Necessity has sort of created a new position in this area, and I need backup. It _is_ worth it, though."

It took Jeremy all of a minute to sign the confidentiality agreement.

His first day on the job began with waving goodbye to his sister and hopping into the passenger seat of Captain Lennox's gigantic black Topkick. The job wasn't exactly on base, Lennox had explained, and for the first few weeks or so, the captain would be driving him. Jeremy had no issues with this. Any excuse to ride in captain's tank of a car was legit in his eyes. His only complaint was that the ride wasn't longer. Apparently, the super secret government whats-it was located very close to the base.

Lennox was quiet for most of the ride, but as he turned off the main rode onto a broad dirt track, he glanced over at his new assistant and opened his mouth.

"You don't faint, do you?" he asked.

"No..." Jeremy said, blinking. "I didn't when I got my tattoo at least. Isn't that a good sign?"

"Fairly," said Lennox, "but this is way bigger than a tattoo. I'm giving you a head's up, alright? This can be a little freaky the first time. Try not to have a fit or anything, ok?"

Suddenly, Jeremy was feeling a lot more uncertain about his new assignment. What could be so terrifying that the captain would feel the need to _warn_ him about it? He was around really big planes all the time, and just how freaky could any nuclear junk be? As far as he knew those were about the only things the military was involved in that was classified as top secret. Who knew? Maybe they'd bumped into some aliens and all those people in Roswell weren't cracked after all.

What looked like an exceptionally large hanger with extra wings tacked onto the sides loomed into view, the dirt road winding up to a massive set of sliding metal doors. Jeremy was impressed. This place was big, and keeping it off Google satellite maps and such must have involved pulling a lot of strings. It was also very well hidden from the local civilians. There were many unidentified side roads in the area, and no one would bother driving far enough down this particular stretch of dirt to catch a glimpse of the metal behemoth waiting at its end. His imagination began toying with ideas of what must be hidden behind those massive walls.

He didn't have long to daydream, however, as the towering doors slid apart far enough to admit the pick up and Captain Lennox pulled inside. The captain knocked the gear back into park and turned off the engine as Jeremy peered curiously out through the tinted windows. There weren't many lights anywhere close to the ground, but the high ceiling was lined with straight strings of florescent bulbs. The hanger was also strangely deserted. No scientists in white lab coats, no military brutes with big muscles and even bigger guns, not even any equipment as far as Jeremy could see. What could possibly be so top secret about a really big empty room?

Lennox, however, once again jerked him from his contemplation by whacking his palms down on the steering wheel and issuing a long, steady breath. "Let's get this over with." Then he popped open his door and hopped down.

Cautiously, Jeremy followed his example, watching his surroundings warily the entire time. He eventually followed his commanding officer to the front of the vehicle, turning to look at another set of huge doors leading out of the main hanger to one side. Slowly, almost like they were afraid of startling the military personnel outside of them, the doors slid open, and then for a moment nothing happened.

Then something moved.

Something big.

Something _really_ big.

_Several_ somethings that were really, _really_ big.

Jeremy was left to gawk helplessly as three tremendously huge, human-looking machines _walked_ into the room. Behind him, he heard a curious series of clicks, whirs and clanks, and he spun around to find Captain Lennox's Topkick transform into yet another impossibly massive robot. Dimly, he realized that he'd ridden all the way from Ohio in it.

"Airman Fenner," Captain Lennox declared, "meet the Autobots."

All eyes, and optics, turned to the stone-still human gaping up at the giant robots surrounding him. None of them rushed him, but expectance hung heavily in the air. At one point he realized that he was expected to speak, so he wetted his lips, cleared his throat and managed to squeak out a very wise and appropriate response.

"Big."

.O.O.O.

Juggling two cans of pop, a very full trash bag, and a long list of the items still to be unpacked, Astrid danced her way around the many boxes barricading the floor until she reached the kitchen table. Just as she moved to set down the cans, though, there came an innocent little _ding_ from the oven and the two pop containers clattered to the floor, making pleasant, musical notes as they impacted with the hard, shiny tiles.

"Shnaahhp," she growled around the pen in her mouth.

She dumped the trash bag on the floor next to the rolling cans and spat out the pen in order to set it and the list on the table. Two out of five wasn't bad, was it? Unable to attend to the pressing matter of the cans, one of which had ruptured and was now leaking sticky stuff all over her nice clean floor, Astrid whirled around to deal with the oven and its more than likely charred contents. It would be just her luck if the blasted homemade pizza she'd slaved over that evening was now extra-crispy. At least it would be in keeping with the day's running score of disasters.

First she'd tripped halfway down the stairs and nearly broken her neck. Then the older-than-dirt microwave that they'd imported from their old house finally bit the dust. Naturally, _that_ little incident had occurred as she was trying to nuke a Hotpocket for lunch, and the evil old appliance had taken her meal with it. After that, she'd spent the afternoon dropping heavy items on her toes, getting shocked by electrical equipment that had seen better days, trying to coax her possessed computer into connecting with the internet and opening a box that had several very personal family items that she just wasn't ready to deal with yet.

And now, to top it all off, there was soda all over the floor that she'd spent a good hour scrubbing the day before.

At least the pizza turned out alright. Still, though, she wanted, no, _needed_ a chance to cry and scream out her frustrations. Sure, she'd helped do all these things with her parents (when they were alive) but just the massive amount of stuff that needed to be done was simply overwhelming. And she didn't have anyone there to just give her a friggin' hug. Her parents were six feet under, her friends were half way across the country, and her brother was off doing who knew what for the military. Personally, Astrid thought she'd earned a chance to bawl for a while.

Just as she was about to succumb to the inevitable angst of the stressed-out teenager, there came an obscenely cheery _honk_ from a car horn outside, and Astrid hauled herself to the door just in time to see her brother step out with a ridiculously big smile on his face from what looked to be a very expensive car. Immediately, her thoughts flicked to dollar signs and she did a quick run through of their monetary assets in her mind. She wound up calculating that the car in front of her was either stolen, or meant that she and Jeremy would not be eating for a couple months.

"Jeremy..." she began shakily.

"Isn't _awesome?_" her brother beamed. "Pontiac Solstice. And don't panic, I didn't buy it, and I didn't _steal it_ either. This is what you might call... a perk... of my new assignment."

"A perk?" said Astrid.

"Yeah," Jeremy said, gazing over the sleek curves of his new vehicle. "A nice one."

Astrid slumped against the doorframe, too tired to question and too tired to even really care. "Whatever. I made dinner. It's still hot... amazingly."

Of all the brothers in the world, Jeremy was not always the fastest on the pick up when it came to his sister's emotions, but it was blatantly clear to him at that moment that all was not well in the Fenner household.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. "I know you don't care as much as I do about cars, but even you can appreciate a hot ride like this..."

"It's just been a really, really long, _bad_ day," said Astrid. Pushing her hair from her face, she laughed weakly and shook her head. "You know that kid story _Alexander and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day_? Well, I just lived it."

"I'm sorry." Jeremy's shoulders slumped.

"Aw, it's not your fault," said Astrid. "_I'm_ sorry for not being properly excited about your 'hot' new ride. It really _is_ pretty sweet."

"You don't know the half of it," Jeremy muttered under his breath.

"Eh?"

"Nothing. So, what's for dinner?"

"Pizza."

"I thought you hated ordering food over the phone."

"I do, and I didn't have to."

"Does that mean...?"

"Yep. Better come while the gettin's good." Astrid turned with a hint of her usual smile and went back into the house, probably to mop up the spilled pop and fetch a replacement for it. Whether or not she'd replace the one that hadn't exploded was another issue. Her brother seemed to have had just a little too good of a day...

Jeremy stayed outside a moment longer, sliding over to 'his car' and giving it a cautious pat on the hood.

"Is your sister ok?" asked the car in an electric baratone. "I can just chill out here for a while. No big deal."

"No, no, no, I'll get you into the garage first," Jeremy assured him. "Something about leaving a giant alien robot..."

"Mech."

"Right... _mech_ sitting out in he middle of my driveway makes me nervous."

"Whatever. I'm cool with it."

Sliding into the driver's seat, Jeremy shook his head, muttering under his breath about talking cars and evil fighter jets. Out of the open door came Astrid's high soprano singing a song Jeremy was sure had never been played on a regular radio station. "How did I get mixed up in all of this?" he asked himself.

"Ya said yes to Captain Lennox," said the car. "Why? Regretin' your decision?"

"Oh, no! No, no, no, not that," Jeremy said, whipping his head back and forth fast enough to jolt something loose. "You guys are _awesome_. I'm just still a bit... confused."

The car laughed. "That seems to be a pretty common thing with you humans."

"Thanks for, ah, volunteering, by the way," Jeremy said, giving the steering wheel a careful tap. "Babysitting a human can't be that much fun."

"I think ya'll are as 'awesome' as you think _we_ are," said the vehicle. "Besides, Optimus asked me to keep an eye on you specifically, bein' new an' all. Never can be too safe with Decepticons on the loose."

"Still... thanks," Jeremy said.

"You're welcome."

As he stepped out of the car and started for the door that led to his dinner, Jeremy smiled back at the car and waved.

"Night, Jazz."

"Night, Jeremy."

A/N: They are filming Transformers 2 and 3 right now on my brother's base. He is gloating. I hate his guts... but I'm really hoping to get more juicy info before I gut him. Wink

Review Replies:

Stephanie: Thank you very much! Hopefully I'll get enough reviews to not get depressed. I'm glad you like the dialouge! I have fun writing it! Thanks again!

GodisGod!: Thanks for your review! Ok, Optimus isn't fitting in anywhere. His holoform is. It's a fairly popular idea in fanfic, and just about every Transformers story I've read has at least references to holoforms. Blackout uses one in the movie, as does Barricade. Does that help? I'm still adjusting to college. It's a huge transition for me, and I don't agree with a lot of the junk they're shoving down our throats in First Year Seminar. And I haven't forgotten you! Just been busy... Homework. Is. EVIL! Thanks again!


	4. Of Sud Wars and Mechanical Eye Candy

Chapter Four: Of Sud Wars and Mechanical Eye Candy

It took all of a month for Astrid to find a suitable community service group to plug into. Jeremy, of course, rolled his eyes and grumbled, not being too big on attending regular meetings when he could take the opportunity to sleep in or go out with his friends, but he did nothing to stop her. If that was what made her happy, she could get up at the crack of dawn and pull weeds from little old ladies' gardens til she was blue in the face. He really didn't care.

And so it was that Jeremy was just coming down the stairs, still bleary eyed and slow as Astrid slipped on her shoes and grabbed her bag from the pile of boxes stacked next to the front door. A car horn blared with perfect timing as the teenager reached for the doorknob.

"See you later!" she shouted.

"Yeah, see ya," Jeremy mumbled as he reached for the cereal.

Paying her sleepy brother's lackluster greeting no mind, Astrid blew out the front door and shouted happily to the crowded van waiting for her on the curb. Borrowing her brother's flashy new car had never been an option, but, luckily, the troop she'd discovered had a van that they sent around for members in need of transportation. It made sense that they would considering the number of car-less teens involved in the program.

The people at in the group were nice to her, although she doubted she'd make many close friends in the temporary setting. She would, after all, be leaving in a year, and most of the other teenagers had been doing this since the start of high school and already knew one another. Still, though, the youth group was fun and active, and it was a welcome relief for Astrid to do something besides keep house.

That weekend promised to be especially fun. She grinned just thinking about it. The senior high group had arranged to commandeer a local business's parking lot for the next Saturday and use it as a make shift car wash. It was a tradition with this particular program to do a yearly 'the youth decide project' where each of the different age groups got to pick and plan the activity, and so the high schoolers had convinced their leader to let them do a free car wash.

Loud, upbeat music, swimsuits, sud-wars, and, with luck, some cars that nearly qualified as eye candy. It was a teenager's paradise.

.O.O.O.

Saturday dawned bright and hot, a perfect day for a carwash.

Duties were quickly assigned, although positions were bound to shift as needed throughout the day, and everyone knew that keeping teenagers where they were actually supposed to be was a bowshot short of impossible. But, still, the starting positions were given, and everyone hopped to their hoses, sponges, towels and posterboard signs with remarkable enthusiasm.

Astrid found herself in one of the two scrubber brigades and chatted animatedly with her cohorts as they waited for the sign-bearers to bring them some business. Said sign-bearers were none other than the infamous blond twins Karey and Kelsie, the service troop's darlings. The troop leader gave them each enough caffeine to charge a small car (if cars ran on caffeine), dropped the signs into their hands and gave them a shove towards the street corner. Until the business started rolling in, there was nothing for the other teams to do but watch the crazed duo screaming and waving the giant posters at the passing traffic. Even with this incredible distraction, however, the two washing lanes wound up getting into a mini feud. Bets were exchanged and anything that might be damaged by moisture was quickly moved to the sidelines.

Just before things started getting ugly with the hoses, there came an unholy shriek from the direction of the blonds, and all eyes turned to see the first car of the day, a measly little sedan, roll into the parking lot.

A wild cheer erupted from the mass of teenagers, and the cries of glee escalated from Astrid's team as the leader waved the car into their lane.

This had the makings of a very good day.

.O.O.O.

The Autobot patrol was making its regular rounds through Tranquillity and the recently established military base when they spotted something unusually... interesting. That day just happened to see the robotic twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stuck on duty along with the ever stoic Prowl. Nothing of interest had crossed their scanners or optics since leaving the base, but suddenly the thrum of loud music and a cranked up bass broke the spell of monotony, and Sides edged just a little bit away from his compatriots and towards the intriguing ruckus.

"_Hold formation,"_ Prowl ordered over the internal comlink.

"_But... this sounds INTERESTING!"_ Sideswipe pleaded.

"_We will be passing near the source of the pulses,"_ said Prowl. _"You will be able to observe the situation then."_

Grumbling, Sides slipped back closer to his twin, wishing that they had been assigned to go out on patrol with anyone other than Prowl. Any other mech would've shared his curiosity and happily picked up the pace just a little bit to see what was happening. But nooo, not old Prowler. Stupid, old, glitch-ridden slagger that he was.

But any internal grumblings about his superior officer were immediately squelched when he got a good look at the scene around the corner. It looked like the human's heaven, but for Transformers. There were cars lined up waiting for one of two small hordes of teenage humans to come up and give them a thorough washing. Once the suds were rinsed off, they drove a little farther forward and a second team came up with soft rags to wipe them down. Then, there was one last knot of humans the cars passed through, and... was that _car wax_ they were using? It was! Each vehicle that ran the gauntlet emerged not only cleaner, but shinier than before, practically glowing in the late morning sunlight. Side's eye caught the scintillating rims on one car's hubcaps and it was all over.

Sideswipe wanted in bad, and he could only imagine what thoughts must be going through his twin's head at that moment.

"_Hey, Prowler...?"_

"_No."_

"_But..."_

"_Wait until your duties are over. Once they are finished you may come back if the activity is still in progress."_

Never before had the twin terrors been so eager to finish a round on patrol.

Privately, Prowl sent a message pack to Prime, informing him of the occasion. It had been a long time since the 'bots had let themselves unwind, and a good wash was always welcome to any functioning mech. Should Prime judge it wise, this might also be the perfect opportunity to help some of the more stubborn soldiers to see the value of the sentient life inhabiting their new home.

.O.O.O.

"Oh, my _gosh_..."

Confused by the reverent tone of her coworker, Astrid pushed back a damp strand of hair from her face and looked over towards the entrance to the impromptu carwash. And there, lo and behold, was a frickin' _armada_ of _really sweet_ cars. Now, Astrid was no pro on anything mechanical, but she knew how to appreciate a rolling work of art when she saw one. The mass trying to squeeze in were a variety of different styles and brands, ranging from Jeeps to Lamborghinis, but they were all remarkably stylish and unique. Astrid spotted several of her male companions beginning to drool.

Sensing the sudden distraction spreading like wildfire among his workers, the troop leader clapped his hands loudly, jump-starting the wash lines once again. He was still a boy himself, though, and he waved the first two vehicles towards the scrubbers with deep seated awe. If anything, the gaping and gawking seemed to be only making the experience even more enjoyable for the new customers, and if the captain of the gang hadn't known better he would've thought the cars even looked... smug.

Astrid slapped her wet rag against her thigh, grinning over at one of her friends as they approached the first customer. It was a beauty, a white Mustang with thick blue stripes running its length. It was nice and shiny, too.

"Pretty," Astrid giggled. "Hardly even needs to be washed."

Then she and the rest of her team set to work, discovering nearly impossible to see bits of dirt and buggy splotches that they worked off with a cheerful vigor. All that day there had been a horrible lack of hot cars, and now they were being inundated with them. Everyone was throwing in extra elbow grease that they hadn't even known they possessed at the thought of the other fancy automobiles waiting for their attention. Even the rivalry between the two lines was forgotten... for a while.

Someone cranked up the music, and before anyone really knew what got into them, they were practically dancing around the cars to the beat, singing along with lyrics they only half-knew. Even the group leader wasn't immune to the upbeat tunes ringing over the parking lot.

Suddenly, Astrid whirled around, laughing at both her friends and herself, and came face to bumper with a very familiar yellow Hummer. She skidded happily around on the wet pavement until she was next to the driver's side window, which promptly rolled itself down to reveal Mr. Ratchet smiling at her with very evident amusement. Panting and grinning like an idiot, Astrid could only imagine how she looked, but at the moment she was having to much fun to really care.

"Hello again!" she said brightly. "Imagine seeing you here. Of course with the mass influx of awesome cars I really shouldn't be so surprised."

Ratchet laughed. "The word got out that there was a car wash in the area, and I'm afraid I couldn't resist investigating. Apparently, some of my friends felt the same way."

"You know these people?" asked Astrid. Glancing around at the sea of sports car and all-terrain vehicles, she felt her eyebrows shoot towards her hairline. "Dang, I wish I had your friends."

Once again, Mr. Ratchet chuckled, reaching for the button to roll his window back up again. "It has been good speaking with you, Astrid. Please give your brother my regards."

"Will do," Astrid chirped, stepping back and picking up her discarded sponge.

She was especially careful to get all of the grit out of the nooks and crannies of Mr. Ratchet's strange car, and felt deeply satisfied with her work as he drove on to the next stage of the wash. That was hardly the last familiar face she saw throughout the day, though.

At some point, the line feud broke out again, and soon it wasn't only the cars that were getting wet and soapy. Girly shrieks and not-so-manly squeals erupted sporadically around the lot. When the hose users got bored they'd casually take aim at any poor soul, from their team or otherwise, that happened to fall into their line of sight. Then, suddenly, both sides decided it would be fun to bother the troop leader, who was still busily directing cars, and several boys grabbed one of the hoses and got creative with a very sudsy sponge. Before he even realized he was under attack, the poor man was standing in a freezing shower a-la-hose and trying vainly to reach around and get out the wet object that was dripping soapy water down his back.

Needless to say, he wanted revenge, and he barely paused long enough to grab the nearest teen, who happened to be Astrid, to fill his spot before charging off after his unprovoked attackers. Giggling madly herself, Astrid stepped up to the front of the lines, and started directing the traffic, which seemed aggravated by the disturbance in the smooth-running system.

The next person waiting in line turned out to be Captain Lennox, who seemed just as happily amused by seeing her there as Mr. Ratchet.

"Having a good day?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" said Astrid. "I'm surrounded by mechanical eye candy. Who wouldn't be having a good day right now? What about you? What's so great about our little operation to attract you and your behemoth of a truck to this area of town?"

"There was word going around at work," Lennox grinned, "and my car insisted."

"I'm sure it did," Astrid said, eyeing the brutish piece of work. "No one wants to argue with a tank. Well, your car should be happy. If the others aren't too busy trying to drown each other they should do a real bang up job."

She waved him through once she'd gotten his promise to say hi to Sarah for her, and continued dividing the cars between washing lanes. After another half hour, the original traffic director squelched back into position and Astrid was free to back to doing what she really loved: washing pretty cars.

The day was busy even after most of the really great cars had gone through. All of a sudden it seemed the trend to have your car washed by the same people who had touched the shiny horde earlier that day. It also helped boost business that other nice cars continued to trickle in from time to time up until they called it quits.

By the time she spied a certain silver Pontiac Solstice, Astrid had fallen to reminiscing about some of the cars she'd had a hand in washing that day. Some of those bad boys had been concept cars, she was sure of it, or at least custom. Many were the sort of things one saw on tv shows about flashy cars and by running internet searches. Actually seeing one (or a lot more than one) in person was astonishing and had left every kid in the troop feeling special, like they'd gotten to sneak into a really big, varied show room and touch all the beauties. It wasn't until Jeremy blared his horn at her that she realized whose car she was working on. His window was already down, and there was a stupid grin on his face as he watched her scrub at the side of his Solstice.

"Oh, hey! I didn't know you were coming," she said in a mildly accusatory voice.

"I'm not the sort to pass up a free car wash," her brother joked.

Out of nowhere, the blond twins, who had finally swapped out with another pair of hyperactive girls in order to have some fun with the actual cars, appeared behind Astrid. This spelled trouble. Warily, Astrid peeked over her shoulder to see the twins beaming innocently at her with their hands held almost primly behind their backs.

"Is that your brother?" Karey asked.

"He's cute," said Kelsie.

"Oh my _gosh_," Astrid moaned. "I'm his _sister_ _REMEMBER_? Do you think it's physically possible for the two of you to lay off the flirting for, like, five minutes?"

"Maybe," said Karey.

"But only if we do this!" Kelsie squealed.

In perfect synchronization, they produced a very large bucket from behind themselves which sloshed dirty, soapy water which had been to rinse all the dirty rags and sponges used by the scrubbing brigade. Astrid didn't even have a chance to scream as the torrent of water crashed down over her head, and for several moments afterwards she was left standing there, rivulets of water running down her face, as the shock slowly worked its way out of her system.

"It's COLD!"

Jeremy was cackling in his car, and Astrid realized unhappily that he'd already rolled up the window to block any and all soppy reprimands that she might throw at him. The twins, however, were another story. They were also doubled over in laughter at their joke, but all it took was one look from the soggy Astrid to send them running.

It was highly amusing for Jeremy to watch his sister slipping and sliding across the broad, open lot in pursuit of the unknown blondes, and he continued to chuckle long after he'd pulled out of the car wash. What made him different from every other brother in America was that his car was laughing _with_ him.

.O.O.O.

It was dark by the time Astrid tottered into the house, leaving a puddle on the floor with every step she took. Her hair was still mostly wet, hanging in dirty tendrils from her scalp, and her clothes were five shades darker thanks to the buckets of water they'd absorbed.

"You're wetter than I remember," Jeremy commented.

"The line feud exploded," said Astrid. "Water. Everywhere. Steven got his hands on a hose and was trying to blast us all across town. If there'd been walls around that parking lot there would be a swimming pool there now."

"Huh." Jeremy sipped serenely from his mug of coffee. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Cause you know me so well." Astrid stopped suddenly, a Cheshire Cat grin on her face. Swinging her arms wide open, she charged towards the seat her brother occupied in the kitchen, screaming, "Give me a hug, Jeremy!"

Jeremy spewed half the coffee in his mouth across the table but managed to fumble his way clear of the chair before Astrid collided with him. Of course, by that point it was too late in any case, and the chase was on; Jeremy ducked and wove around the house with his wet, hyper active sister in hot pursuit.

From the driveway, Jazz revved his engine happily as he followed his new charge and his sibling with his sensors. Somehow he knew he'd made the right choice by agreeing to be paired with this young airman.

And somehow he knew even more that his life with these two would never be boring.


	5. Of Freakin' Big Eyes and Possessed Cars

Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers I would not be in debt to pay for tuition. Guess that means I don't own Transformers!

A/N: So, here's the deal. This fic has received a lot less response than I was hoping for, and I now have a new baby sitting in the wings, begging to take center stage. I have a lot more of this fic already written, but I'm not sure whether or not it's worth the effort to finish it. My computer, Frenzy, has also seen fit to make my life even more complicated than usual. So I shall let you, my loverly, wonderful readers decide. In other words: **review or else**.

Chapter Five: Of Freakin' Big Eyes and Possessed Cars

For the first time since they'd come to live on base, Jeremy was up before Astrid.

_Way_ before Astrid, actually.

He was already putting the final items in his bag before he heard the familiar squeak of bedsprings announcing his sister's newly awakened state. She stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later, a dressing robe draped carelessly across her shoulders in a useless attempt to cover her pajamas. Judging by the look on her face, she really didn't care that much at the moment, anyway. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her besides Jeremy. Only when she'd inhaled the first fragrant whiffs of her steeping tea and dragged the tupperware containing her strawberries out of the fridge did she glance Jeremy's way.

"Hey," she slurred.

"Hey," said Jeremy.

He was smiling a lot more than he ought to be, and Astrid threw a dishtowel at him to wipe the stupid smirk off his face. Naturally, though, he dodged it and only grinned all the broader.

"Oh, I really hate you right now," Astrid said. "But I hate my head worse."

"Long night?"

"The twins got the bright idea to take this year's troop picture with everyone shoved into a car. It didn't turn out well."

"Yeah, I heard you come in real late last night," Jeremy said. "I was a little afraid you wouldn't be up early enough to say goodbye."

Astrid waved him off half-heartedly. "I won't be seeing you for a week. Of course I got my tired butt out of bed to see you off. Have fun in Washington. Try and annoy at least one politician for me."

The siblings shared very few things in common, but their general disdain for anything even remotely political was mutual. Still, though, his sister's show of early morning grouchiness was not enough to fully erase Jeremy's unease with leaving her alone... even if there was a giant alien robot sitting guard in the driveway. It didn't seem right somehow, leaving her to fend for herself so soon after their parents' accident.

While he wasn't often very vocal or showy about his softer emotions the boy, like all big brothers, did have them, and right then they were threatening to spill over into mushiness. Leaving his bag by the door, Jeremy stepped over to his little sister and clasped her in a suffocating squeeze. "Promise not to do anything stupid while I'm away."

"I will if you will," Astrid wheezed.

"Thought so."

Her brother's arms were a rare and welcome refuge for Astrid, and she craned her neck backwards to smile up at him with her best I'm-so-innocent look. His response was a snort and he released her, mumbling, "Shoulda hired a babysitter."

"Creep!"

Smiling and confident in his sister's abilities to survive on her own, Jeremy Fenner picked up his bags and stepped out the door, heading towards the massive black truck waiting outside for him with his commanding officer.

As he passed by the silver sports car resting in the shadow of the house, he paused, though, and patted the hood lightly.

"Take care of her for me, ok?"

There was an almost silent confirming rev of the engine, and Jeremy continued on his way, suddenly feeling much more at ease about his baby sister's safety in his absence.

.O.O.O.

Astrid stumbled in out the rain, giving her folded umbrella a good shake before hurriedly closing the door behind herself. It was a dark, rainy day, but unfortunately the mail still came and certain things still needed to be purchased from the nearest grocery store on such dreary afternoons. And Astrid had no car, so she was very, very wet.

There was always her brother's 'perk' car as she'd taken to calling it, but for some reason the shiny little Solstice made her uneasy. Several times she'd caught herself edging around it when she went down the driveway or giving it a ridiculously wide berth when she passed by. She couldn't explain it. There just seemed to be some sort of creepy aura around the exceptionally expensive piece of machinery. She felt like there were eyes watching her constantly in its presence, and it had made strange noises when she'd ridden in it with Jeremy. Did her strange phobia of the Pontiac make sense? No. Was she going to suck it up, act like a big girl and actually drive the twisted thing? Snow would fall in a Jamaican July first. A few of her old friends had claimed that there must be something slightly wrong with her brain. Someone who kept their clock fifty minutes fast and had the urge to straighten things more than Monk was not completely _there_, they'd insisted. She actually agreed with them, but she'd never bothered trying to change any of her bizarre habits.

And she wasn't going anywhere near that car.

Suddenly realizing how cold she was thanks to the typhoon raging outside, Astrid shivered and moved into the kitchen where she promptly dumped the items she'd risked pneumonia to get. The mail was fine, or at least the parts worth keeping were. On her way back from the mailbox, Astrid had gotten clever and wrapped the more important-looking envelopes within the obnoxiously thick layers of junk mail and ads she'd received. The wet paper made a moist slapping sound as it impacted with the counter. With her other hand, she dropped the bag of necessary perishables that she'd had to run out to get despite the inclement weather. At least the look on the cashier's face when they realized she'd walked all the way there in the pouring rain was worth the price of admission. Like the mail, the plastic bag made fitting wet squelches as it was set down, and Astrid didn't even bother paying attention to the growing puddle of water slipping down along the smooth sides of the bag and onto the kitchen floor. First she'd dry herself off, then she'd worry about the house.

After a very long, very _hot_ shower, Astrid finally came back the task of mopping up the small lake that had grown over the kitchen's linoleum flooring. By the time she was done with that, she had managed to create an island of dripping towels, fill the trash can with half a roll of paper towels, and achieve a state of hunger that she hadn't worked up to for quite a while.

She decided to splurge and popped a frozen calzone in the toaster oven. After all, she was home alone, keeping out of trouble, and looking after the whole house all by herself. It wasn't like there was anyone to celebrate these accomplishments with her, so she decided to do a little partying on her own. Besides, she was in a good mood.

As much as she loved her brother, he and Astrid butted heads hard and frequently. It had only taken four days for her to remember why she hadn't been utterly heartbroken when he left to join the military. He messed up her towels, left trash and dirty dishes scattered in his wake wherever he went, and then, of course, there was the war over the toilet seat which was waged between men and women everywhere. But now, he was gone, and Astrid was free to do whatever she pleased without having a bass war between his Slipknot and her Within Temptation.

Once dinner was done she moved upstairs, slowly getting ready for bed as the food settled into a pleasant, warm lump in her stomach. The rain was still pattering at the window when she slipped under the covers, and Astrid fell asleep with a contented sigh as she listened to the staccato percussion of the drops hitting the glass.

That pleasant rhythm, however, followed Astrid into her sleep and conjured a familiar scene in her dreams that she'd been striving to forget in her waking hours.

.O.O.O.

_There was the rain at the window, punctuated by the occasional thunderclap as streaks of lightning lent added flashes of blinding light to the small living room._ _Old reruns were playing on the tv as Astrid reclined on the couch with a bowl of ice-cream in one hand and the remote control in the other. It had been a long, busy day with the end of the year choir concert approaching, and the teenager was enjoying eating the dairy products that she was supposed to abstain from before practice. Rebellion, even on such a small scale, felt nice for a change. Besides, it wasn't like the frozen treat would still be bothering her vocal chords in the morning._

_The third episode of_ I Love Lucy_ that she'd seen that night was just coming to a close when there was another source of light besides the lightning and the tv. Blue and red flashes blinked against the drawn curtains, and Astrid could just hear the dim sputter of an engine turning off as she set her empty bowl down on the coffee table. In another minute the polite chime of the doorbell broke the cozy charm of the evening, and she peered out the peep hole in the door to see a pair of police officers standing on her doorstep_.

_Her hand felt like ice as she twisted the knob and opened the door to see the two men looking down at her with pitying remorse. Her pleasant night by herself was over._

"_Miss Fenner?"_

.O.O.O.

Jazz started from recharge as his scanners beeped plaintively. He'd left a select few of them operational and attuned to the young femme inside as he took a quiet doze, and now they were alerting him to a possibly dangerous change. The young woman's stress levels had dramatically increased, and her pump rate was skyrocketing. It seemed that she was still in recharge, but the startling change in her vital systems worried the Autobot, and after double-checking that she was still fast asleep, he carefully unfolded into his bipedal mode and crept around to peer in her bedroom window in order to gather better readings.

A nightmare. A human phenomenon where the subject suffered from either painful memories of past events or disturbing scenes from their imagination that were distinctly unpleasant in nature. It wasn't a life threatening condition, though Jazz was unhappy about leaving the poor youngling in such a state. But there was nothing he could do to help her besides bringing her out of recharge, and that would not be wise considering the circumstances.

Just as he was about to creep back to the driveway and settle back into his alt mode, the teenager jerked awake with a start, tossed roughly out of her nightmare. Flailing, she tumbled out of bed and landed heavily on the floor. Then...

She looked up.

For nearly a minute the two stared at each other, almost pretending that if they didn't move the other wouldn't see them. But it was a useless gesture in either case.

Once she'd shaken herself free of the hypnotizing gaze of the giant blue orbs outside her window, Astrid gave her head a thorough shaking, blinked, and looked again... only to find her window totally empty. She rushed to press her face against the glass, looking for any sign of the mysterious, gargantuan eyes, but the rainy night revealed no traces of her vanishing peeping tom. Almost immediately, she put it off to the aftereffects of a dream, but she didn't leave the window. Then, for some reason she never understood, she looked down, and her heart nearly leapt into her mouth as she saw the bumper of a small silver sports car slip around the corner.

Jaw working soundlessly, Astrid moved back from the window, trying to figure out if she'd really just seen what she thought she saw.

Her clothes were on before she even registered that she was moving. Hands flying, she grabbed her jacket and stashed her cell phone in her pocket. After she'd gone through the traumatic experience of finding her shoes and getting them on her feet, she tripped her way down the stairs and stalked cautiously towards the back door.

She had no plan, but she knew that she wanted more distance between herself and the thing that was masquerading as her brother's car. As she crept through the backyard she got the bright idea to just double check and look for evidence before she went on a wet, nighttime jog through town. Her feet led her to the side yard that her window overlooked, and she crouched down in the wet grass to examine the earth that had been torn up by the strange encounter. Now, Astrid was no tracker, but she knew a giant footprint when she saw one, and she knew what tire treads looked like, too. Both were scattered around in the ripped-up grass, and the footprints were set right beneath where the eyes had been floating in her window.

Without a second thought, Astrid turned and ran off through the neighbors' yard until she reached the next street over.

She didn't hear the Solstice start up and pull out of the driveway.

.O.O.O.

Astrid finally stumbled to a halt in front of a closed convenience store and doubled over with her hands on her knees as she panted for breath. The streetlights did very little to dispel the shadows that had gathered along the deserted street and the connecting alleys. How she'd gotten to this part of Tranquility she wasn't entirely sure. Actually, she couldn't even quite remember how she'd left the base. That probably hadn't been a very smart move on her part. Being around armed military personnel, even if they didn't believe that your brother's car was possessed, was better than being alone in an unfamiliar part of town with not a living soul in sight.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, she saw a single police cruiser appear around the corner, its lights flashing silently over the dark street corner. At least she wasn't alone, Astrid thought. She'd never had any reason to be afraid of the cops, and now the sight of a single keeper of the peace was immensely relieving. Rising from her bent position, Astrid gave the policeman a tired wave and started looking around, trying to figure out which way she'd came and what would be the shortest way back to base.

Her back was turned to the police car when she first heard it. It was a strange sliding _click_, followed by multiple whirs and a few revs that sounded suspiciously out of place. Astrid turned slowly, feeling an unexpected fear stirring in the pit of her gut.

Her eyes met first with the thing's knees, then they traveled upwards, taking in the multitude of alien parts and familiar police paraphernalia sticking out from the vaguely humanoid shape of the monster looming up before her. Red eyes glared down at her, and a clawed hand flexed as Astrid's breath hitched. She rediscovered her tongue when it took the first step towards her.

"Not another one!"

Before the monstrous robot could take another step, Astrid was flying down the sidewalk, shouting for the help that she knew could not hear her. This was a business district and was abandoned by ten o' clock at the latest each and every day. If there was anyone nearby, chances were they'd be too drunk to take notice, especially in such dismal weather. Something large and black entered her peripheral vision and Astrid just registered that it was a hand before it collided with her, sending her soaring to the middle of the road.

Nerves screamed on impact, and a high pitched yelp escaped her as the merciless asphalt made contact with her side. Her palms scrabbled over broken bottles and shattered glass as she fought to regain her footing, but the massive hand descended on her again before she could rise. She was pinned down on her back with the rain dripping down on her face, looking up at the angry red eyes of her attacker, who seemed less than thrilled with her meager resistance.

Suddenly Astrid wished very much that she'd never left home.

The hand covering her pressed down, grinding her back into the road, as the angular face of the car-turned-robot zoomed closer.

"WHERE IS THE AUTOBOT BASE OF OPERATIONS?" it demanded in a sharp, synthesized voice.

"I don't know what you're-,"

"**WHERE IS THE AUTOBOT BASE?**"

Astrid wheezed as the robot pushed her against the asphalt even harder, and she scratched desperately at the massive fingers as her breathing grew more and more labored.

"I don't- I don't know!"

The pressure on her chest increased, and the murderous red eyes narrowed dangerously.

"USELESS," the thing growled.

Its hand crushed her against the roadway with incredible force, and just when Astrid thought her ribs were going to shatter under the strain, there was a flash of silver, and the massive hand was torn away.

"Hands off, Decepticon scum!"

She gasped for air, gulping it in between pained sobs as she hugged her aching ribcage tearfully. Two figures clashed above her, cursing fluently in a language she didn't understand as they slashed and pounded on each other. One of the fighters let loose a bright flash of light from what Astrid supposed was its arm, and the hulking black figure of her assailant folded back into its cop car alter ego and vanished down the boulevard.

Astrid found herself lying helplessly on the ground beneath the silver victor. It was smaller in size than the black behemoth that had just tried to snuff out her life, but it was still enormous by any human standard. Slowly, almost cautiously, it bent over her with wide, worried blue eyes, blue eyes that Astrid would've recognized anywhere.

Had she been feeling like her usual self, Astrid might have pointed an accusatory finger at the sleek silver robot towering above her and demanded what it was doing in her driveway or why it was looking in her window, but at the moment she was too terrified, and in too much pain to do more than whimper like a kicked puppy. Two hands curled in from either side and scooped her up off the pavement to bring her closer to the eyes, which had been revealed when the thing's visor flipped back _somewhere_ into its head.

"You alright, little lady?" it asked.

Astrid gawked. Not only was it a giant robot that turned into a Pontiac Solstice, it was a giant robot that turned into a Pontiac Solstice that could _talk_, and nicely, too.

When she didn't answer it, the robot frowned worriedly and pulled her in closer to itself. Astrid whimpered a little more but didn't bother trying to resist. Tiny human girl versus big strong robot thing? Tiny human girl lose.

After a quick glance around, Astrid's rescuer turned away from the rest of the town and started loping off into the desert. Images of alien abduction and science geeks' experiments gone wrong rolled through her mind like a psychedelic kaleidoscope, and she moaned aloud. The hands holding her only tightened protectively.

"I ain't gonna hurt ya," it said. "Just hold on and we'll get Doc Ratchet to take a look atcha."

Her carrier was in a bit of a hurry, it seemed, and they crossed over several miles of sand and scrub nearly as fast as a car might have. But he (the voice sounded very masculine, Astrid reasoned) took great pains to avoid any chance of being seen. They swerved around any homesteads they stumbled across, and the robot took care to stay away from roads as much as possible.

All in all, by the time they arrived at wherever they were going, Astrid felt well and truly lost.

She looked up as the robot stepped out of the chilly rain and found that they had stepped into a wide space, most likely a warehouse or hangar of some kind. There was a noise to her left and her eyes darted over to see another robot, larger than the one holding her, standing nearby with its burly mechanical arms folded in front of it.

"You're not due to report back, yet," it said in a grumbling voice. "And you're supposed to be at Airman Fenner's house, keeping an eye on his _sibling_ as well."

"I _am_ keeping an eye on her," said Astrid's savior.

"Just what do you..."

The one holding her carefully folded back a few of his fingers to show the shaking teenager held against his chest.

"Barricade," he said quietly. "Try not to scare her any more than she already is, 'Hide."

"_Primus_," the other robot rumbled, peering at her with something akin to sympathy. "He hurt it?"

"I don't think so," said the silver one, "but I thought I should take her to Ratchet... just in case..."

The larger robot stepped back, waving the silver one forwards. "Go on in. I think the old fragger's in his med bay."

The one carrying Astrid gave a quick nod and jogged on farther into the building. He passed through an exceptionally large door, and Astrid's eyes were assaulted by sudden light and her ears rang with loud voices. More of the colossal robots were walking through the halls there, some easily twice the size of the one holding her. Two of the robots swerved towards the silver one and began talking to him animatedly in strange noises that sounded like a combination of dial-up and a car sifting gears. Their size was beyond intimidating, and having so many giant robots crowding around her was pushing Astrid's meager measure of self control. It was only when one clapped the silver one on the shoulder, though, that Astrid squealed, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

A red one, who had done the shoulder-clapping, peered down at her with obvious interest and said in regular English, "Who's this, Jazz? I didn't think Prime wanted us interacting with the locals."

"It looks familiar," a yellow one said with a frown. "Wasn't it one of the humans at..."

"Not now, Streaker," the silver one, Jazz, said. "She's scared outta her processor and I doubt either 'a you are helping. I'll fill you in later. I need to get her to Ratchet."

'Jazz' didn't give either of the twin terrors a chance to argue and set off again with renewed vigor towards the 'med bay'. Astrid tried shifting a little in the robot's hands and hissed in pain as her hands bumped against the metal. Her carrier glanced down at her and started moving faster.

A door swooshed open before them, and the silver robot trotted in with his head swiveling eagerly from side to side in search of something. Another one of 'Jazz's' kind was standing across the room, its back to them, and her carrier made a beeline towards it.

"Ratchet!"

The big yellow-green thing turned quickly at the exclamation and seemed to glare at the one holding Astrid.

"Why aren't you at the Fenners' residence?" it demanded.

Wordlessly, 'Jazz' held Astrid out towards the bigger robot with a pleading expression on his face. 'Ratchet's' eyes locked onto the pitiful, shivering mass curled up in the silver robot's hands and swiftly scooped her up. Astrid cried out in surprise and alarm, but the big yellow 'bot cradled her up against his chest even more gently than the silver one had and made soothing rumbles until the worst of Astrid's tremors had passed. Then he looked at 'Jazz'.

"What happened?"

"Barricade got her," 'Jazz' said in a pained voice. "It was an accident, she saw me, she got scared and took off, but I thought it would be fine if I just kept her in scanner range... Please tell me she's ok."

For some reason Astrid felt like the stray cat brought home by the teary-eyed child who'd seen it get mauled by a dog. Now he was asking 'daddy' to fix her up and make her better. Her aching body assured her that this was not an inaccurate comparison.

'Ratchet' _hmmmmmed_ and regarded the figure curled up in his hands with a look that was anything but skin deep. Something tingly swept over Astrid's skin, and the robot gave a noncommital grunt. "Multiple lacerations, severe bruising over the torso, and her body temperature's a bit below normal... But nothing life-threatening. None of her ribs were cracked or broken."

'Jazz' let out an auditory sigh of relief.

"So, she'll be ok, then?"

"She'll be fine," 'Ratchet' assured him. A blanket seemingly descended out of nowhere and was draped over Astrid's shoulders. She shuddered in pleasure as her body warmed. "Explaining all this will be difficult, though."

The two robots paused, watching Astrid tug the blanket closer. Then a thought seemed to strike 'Jazz'.

"What are we gonna tell her brother?"

"That will also be difficult."

A/N: Kindly click on the new and improved review button and FEED THE STARVING AUTHORS!

Replies:

GodisGod!andIamnot...: Thanks for the review! Yeah, I didn't really have time for notes last time, but I felt the need to put them up this time around. For obvious reasons. I do like twins. I think they're fascinating. It was more of an accident here, though. Sunny and Sides are canon, and the other two were thrown in more for the heck of it than for any real literary reason. Thanks again!

Stephanie: Thank you very much! How very kind of you! I can't write anything without humor. It's just not possible... unless it's utter crap, that is. You can ask my professors. They'll tell you the same thing. Of course, I never like any of my fanfic when I go back and look at it, so... yeah. Thanks again!!!


	6. Of Mechs and Ladies

Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers I'd actually have a car. I have no car, therefore, I do not own Transformers.

A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful feedback for the last chapter! Finals/end of term papers are upon me, poor student that I am, so it might be another few weeks before I pop out another update, but stick around!

Chapter Six: Of Mechs and Ladies

"How is she doing, Ratchet?"

Astrid squirmed, trying to go back to sleep. Who was talking so loud? Had she left the tv on before she went to sleep?

"Physically, she'll recover, though I shudder to think what would've happened if Jazz hadn't been tailing her."

Ratchet...? Mr. Ratchet? Was that Mr. Prime's voice, too?

"Has her brother been contacted?" That was Mr. Ratchet's voice, although it was louder than she remembered.

"Yes. He is on his way here." And that was definitely Mr. Prime. "Captain Lennox will be remaining in Washington to finish their errand and return as soon as possible. They were both...greatly concerned over the attack."

"Of course they were," Ratchet groused. "She _is_ Airman Fenner's sister, after all, and she's on friendly terms with the entire Lennox household. I'd be surprised if they weren't concerned after what happened."

After what happened...? She remembered going to bed... having a bad dream about...eyes. There had been gigantic eyes in her window. And there had been a gigantic robot that tried to squish her. Then she'd been taken to some sort of... robot base... and she must still be there.

She sat up faster than she probably should've and swung her head around as she tried to figure out where she was. At some point the big yellow robot must have set her down, because she was now lying in a small nest of grey blankets that had been constructed on what looked to be a very large tabletop.

The yellow face of her rescuer's friend suddenly loomed down in front of her and offered what was meant to be a reassuring look. "How are you feeling?"

Astrid yelped and back pedaled across the table. Her eyes were riveted to the enormous 'bot in front of her and she only realized how far she'd managed to get when her foot went back and met empty air. Another yelp escaped her as she tottered backwards and started to fall over the rim of the ledge. The yellow robot shouted something in alarm, and Astrid clenched her eyes shut in preparation for a messy death. Before she hit the ground, though, she landed on something warm and hard that careful dipped as it caught her in order to break her fall.

The ground did not move. And it wasn't generally warm, either.

Her eyes remained shut for several seconds as she fought to regain control of her rapid breathing, and she was suddenly aware of going up, like in an elevator. She opened her eyes to find herself once again level with the top of the table, looking across at one frazzled robot.

"There ya go," a deep, resonant voice that she very much recognized said. "I gotcha."

Very cautiously, Astrid peered over her shoulder to see the largest robot she had yet come across with his face very near to hers. It was his hand she was sitting in, and she made her exit to the table with surprising alacrity for someone whose rib cage felt like it was on fire. The metal mountain made a low rumbling noise that she took for a laugh and backed away from the table.

"Please don't do that again," the yellow one said.

"Wh-what are you?" Astrid asked.

"We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron," the tall one rumbled.

"But you can call us Autobots," said the other.

"Your government has granted us freedom within its borders and allowed us to construct a base of operations from which to better combat the Decepticons," the metal mountain said. "Captain Lennox recruited your brother to aid him in his job as our human liaison with your government and military. My first lieutenant, Jazz, was assigned to protect your brother and any family he may have considered close. We apologize that our first official meeting with you was under such unfortunate circumstances. However, we are deeply relieved that Barricade did not seriously harm you."

Astrid winced as she touched her ribs. The term 'serious harm' was debatable. "And what was he? Barricade, I mean."

"A Decepticon," said the yellow robot, "a faction of our race with no regard for sentient life different from our own, and sometimes not even then."

Thoughts chased each other around in her head, making Astrid dizzy enough to take a seat again in her little nest. Her knees were drawn up to her chin and she glanced from one giant alien robot to the next. Her brother was working with aliens. There was an alien living in her garage. A really _big_ frickin' robot had wanted to make her into a gory pancake because she was squishier than it was.

Just about that time, her forehead collided with her knees with a dull _thump._

"Miss Fenner?"

Astrid looked up at the tall one dully, wondering what else it could possible want to tell her. Were they in league with Darth Vader now?

"My name is Optimus Prime," he said in a particularly gentle tone, "and you already know my medical officer, Ratchet."

"Prime and Ratchet..." Astrid's eyebrows nearly connected above her nose and her lips turned down in a thoughtful frown. "You wouldn't happen to..."

"Transform into vehicles like Jazz? Naturally," said Ratchet. He smiled at her indulgently and suddenly there was a man standing beside her.

Astrid jumped about a foot in the air and wondered idly if her jaw would ever be able to close again or if she was doomed to be a walking fly trap for the rest of her days. Beside her, Mr. Ratchet smiled understandingly and literally offered her a shoulder to lean on as Mr. Prime fizzled into existence next to him.

"So you weren't... all the time you were really..."

"The vehicles we 'drove' were really our alternate modes," Ratchet explained. "So you've technically met us before, and spoken with us as well if that makes you feel any better."

"Not... particularly," Astrid said. Wobbling again, she collapsed for the third time in the pile of blankets that had been provided for her. "Wow."

"Are you feeling alright, Miss Fenner?" asked Prime.

Blinking, Astrid looked up at the colossus standing before her and shook her head dumbly. "I rode all the way from Ohio in a sentient semi truck that transforms into a giant alien robot and you're asking if I feel alright?"

"Giant alien _mech_," Ratchet corrected as his hologram winked out of existence.

"Sorry," said Astrid. "Kinda new at this whole mechanical manners thing."

Prime made that rumbling sound again and his own hologram vanished. The enormous mech straightened to his full height and gave the much smaller human a moment to adjust before holding his hand out politely for her.

"Your brother will not be here for several hours, Miss Fenner, and I am sure that Ratchet, while a fine medic, would not be the most calming of companions," Optimus said. The medic grumbled something darkly under his breath about the Prime's next maintenance check, but the larger mech ignored him and focused on Astrid, who was looking at the hand in a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.

It reminded him very much of when the young woman had been faced with Sarah Lennox's offer of friendship. Only the hand in question had been considerably smaller and less threatening.

Very slowly, and very carefully, Astrid took a step forward. She edged towards the hand at a slightly sideways angle, eyeing it like Optimus might change his mind and squash her, but she kept coming.

Finally, she stood so close to the inviting palm that her muddy jeans rubbed against the smooth metal. Behind her, Ratchet had stopped even pretending to clean his tools and watched the girl with guarded intensity. She looked into the palm of Optimus's hand, then up at his gently reassuring optics. Without taking her eyes from his gaze, she cautiously wrapped her arm around his thumb for support... and slipped onboard.

There was an almost auditory sigh of relief from Ratchet, and Optimus lifted his hand smoothly up to the level of his chest as Astrid continued to cling onto his fingers. The pair of them moved out of the med bay then, leaving Ratchet to prepare for his next victim, and went out into the rest of the base.

Optimus had hardly placed one foot outside the door when his path was inadvertently blocked by one of his mechs sagging against the wall. At the sight of his commander, the soldier straightened and visibly perked up. He opened what Astrid guessed to be the mechanical equivalent of a mouth to speak, but just as he prepared to voice his thought, he caught sight of Astrid nestled in the palm of his leader's hand, and his 'mouth' clamped shut.

"Jazz," Prime said.

"Optimus... sir," said the silver mech.

Astrid gripped Prime's fingers a little harder and leaned up to get a better view of the much tinier 'bot down below. She recognized him immediately, an entire beat before Prime launched into official introductions.

"Astrid Fenner, meet Jazz, one of my best mechs," he said in his deep, rumbling voice.

"Pleased to meet you again, little lady," Jazz said in an even deeper voice, which Astrid found oddly funny considering his comparatively smaller stature.

"Pleased to meet you," she replied. "Ah, sorry about- well, earlier."

"Don't go apologizing to _nobody_, little lady," Jazz ordered. "If I'd been you I woulda done the same thing."

"Except you would probably have kicked the creep's rear into the next state instead of turning into a damsel in distress."

"I am a mech," the robot admitted, "so actin' like a squealing femme mighta been hard."

Optimus rumbled in a pleased way, setting Astrid's teeth vibrating as the sound traveled through the hand holding her. Who needed a Shiatsu massage chair when you had an easily amused giant robot?

"Perhaps, Jazz, you would be interested in showing Miss Fenner the base? You are, after all, practically her guardian," Prime suggested.

"I'd love to show the little lady around!" said Jazz. "How's that sound to you?"

"That sounds... fine..."

Just like an elevator, the hand holding her descended what was probably a couple of stories until she was lowered close enough to the floor to safely slide off. Prime straightened up again, and Astrid remembered what it was like to be a very small child standing in a room with grown-ups. Only, the adults in her life had never been quite _this_ big.

Jazz reached to pick her up, but Astrid shyly shook her head and explained in a very small voice, "I think I'd like to just walk for a little bit if that's alright."

"No problem with that, little lady," said Jazz. "Thanks for bringing her, Optimus."

"It was my pleasure, friend," Prime said in his impossibly resonant voice.

As his leader moved slowly off down the hall, Jazz looked down at the human girl shifting her weight awkwardly from foot to foot before him. She gave him a cock-eyed smile that said more clearly than any words, 'what now?'

"Met anyone besides the Boss Man and old doc Hatchet?" he asked.

"Only the ro- mechs that you bumped into last night," said Astrid.

"Sunny and Sides," Jazz supplied. "We'll go to the rec room. Might be some mechs worth talking to off duty..."

He began moving along the hall with very slow, careful steps to allow Astrid to keep up with him without straining herself. With every shift of his feet, he checked the position of the little human. Jazz trusted his scanners and also the young woman's sense of caution, but a Cybertronian couldn't be too careful when it came to dealing with fragile organics. Anything might happen if he got careless. Little nudges or bumps that wouldn't even dent a transformer could seriously harm or even kill a human.

Soon they were walking through more trafficked areas of the hallways, and Astrid brought herself a little closer to Jazz's large but familiar feet as other Autobots passed them. A few inquisitive looks were shot in the girl's direction, and she shrank even nearer to her ginormous protector. Jazz felt a swell of humor and pride at the youngling's trust in him, and tried to keep himself between her and any mech she might not feel safe around. Soon, though, this became slightly dangerous as groups of mechs passed each other in the fairly narrow space, and feet were shuffled around gracelessly as they tried to squeeze through some of the tighter junctions.

Finally, Jazz crouched down again and held his hand out for the girl, saying, "I'd feel better if you were up here for a little while. Nobody here'd hurt you on purpose, but these are some pretty big feet, and this is a pretty small hallway. Would you mind takin' a ride the rest of the way?"

"Thanks, that'd be great," Astrid admitted, gratefully scooching into the cupped hands.

Jazz made good time the rest of the way without the short-legged human restraining his pace, and they arrived in the rec room shortly after that. It was crowded, as usual, and Astrid clamped her hands over her ears for the first few minutes to try and put a dampener on the racket. Never again would she consider her extended family as loud. Not one of her cousins or aunts had a dime on the Autobots. It seemed with their added height and weight came added ability to make some really frickin' loud noise.

It seemed that her transport was a widely liked robot-person, because as soon as he was spotted by the general assembly the shouts doubled in number and volume, leaving Astrid a small ball of taut nerves and strained eardrums in Jazz's hands. Her discomfort didn't go unnoticed, however, and once they'd seen just what Jazz had cupped in his grasp, several of the mechs waved urgently at their fellow soldiers, making shushing noises that sounded extremely out of place coming from the walking weapons. Astrid giggled to herself, and slowly uncurled from the fetal-position that she'd assumed upon entering the rec room.

Jazz set her down in the human platform that Lennox had sat on only a few weeks earlier and decided the fate of the Fenner family. As she tried self consciously to brush off the worst of the dried mud and gunk from her clothing, Astrid took a look around and nodded appreciatively. Just seeing that humans were common enough in the base to warrant their own section of the massive facility made her feel a little more at ease. Her unofficial guardian settled down nearby on a mech-sized stool and watched her carefully. When he was sure that she wasn't going to freak out and do something dramatic and possibly dangerous to her own health, he settled down on his elbows and waved a few of his tamer friends over towards the young human.

"This is Wheeljack and Bumblebee," he said. "Our resident scientist and our best scout."

"Is this Airman Fenner's younger sibling?" the one called Wheeljack asked excitedly. Astrid backpedaled rapidly as his face zoomed in to within a yard of her own. "Siblings! Can you imagine? It's so different with our kind! The twins for example..."

"'Jack," Bee said, carefully pulling the overeager mech back to a safe distance, "I'm sure it's all very fascinating, but you're scaring the human."

"Oh! Am I?" he exclaimed. Wheeljack's optics widened, and Astrid tried to hide another bout of giggles with a slightly strangled snort. The poor scientist looked horrified, and backed up several more paces than was necessary in a needless show of harmlessness. "I'm so sorry! And here you are, just out of the med bay..."

"Oh, she's a good, level-headed little lady, 'Jack," Jazz assured him, winking an optic at Astrid. "I'm sure she'll forgive you."

"Oh, yes! Please, please, I do beg for your forgiveness. If Ratchet found out..." Wheeljack's words died away as a look of growing fear spread over his face. His hand meandered up to his helm, which, Astrid noted, was sporting several nasty looking dents.

"There's nothing to forgive," Astrid assured him. "You were just a little too excited is all. No problem. I'm fine. It's not like you tried to...squish me or anything."

All three mechs' faces grew grim at the mention of squishing, and Bumblebee shook his head with remorse. "I hope you don't believe that all of us are like that slagger," he said. "No Autobot would ever harm a human..."

"Don't worry, Mr. Prime already gave me your history in a nutshell. I know what's going on now... sorta."

"Well, my shift's about to start," Wheeljack suddenly declared, "and if I'm late Ratchet will throw something at me regardless of whether or not he hears about that first little incident..."

"Ratchet won't hear about it from me," said Astrid.

"The Hatchet won't hear about what?"

The mechs and human all turned to see a pair of shiny 'bots, one red, one yellow, standing near the human platform with their arms crossed over their well-polished chests.

"Nothing!" Wheeljack said, just a little too quickly to be believable. "There's nothing!"

"Uh-huh." The red one's eyes drifted down from his fellow mech to rest on the little human below, who was growing just a little bit anxious in the presence of the intimidating twins. Jazz, being the human-friendly mech he was, noticed and gave the other mech a steady frown.

"Cool down the questions a little 'Sides," he said. "Astrid's still a little new to being around critters bigger than her home, and we're trying not to startle her any more than we have to."

The hidden warning in Jazz's tone was completely lost on the red mech, however, and his optics lit up with unnatural brilliance at the mention of the human's name.

"Is this the other Fenner, then? Jeremy's little sister?" 'Sides inquired.

"Yes, and she's just recovered from a very traumatic experience..." Wheeljack reasoned.

"Does she like pranks?"

There was a collective moan from all the mechs gathered around the human level, but 'Sides seemed oblivious.

"That electric whoopee cushion her brother let us borrow is the best thing since high grade," he continued. His focus narrowed down to Astrid."You know anything about stuff like that?"

"Enough to survive in the same house as Jeremy, yeah." Astrid blinked. "Why?"

"Whatever you do, tell them _nothing_ about schemes or jokes that might be put into practical effect," Bee warned her. "These two are the pranking champions in the Autobot faction. Especially 'Sides."

"Like I said," Astrid repeated with a shrug, "I only know enough to survive around my brother." 'Sides visibly drooped. "But I do know a lot of cool junk that you might find interesting on some prank-generating level... really deep down."

"Such as?" the yellow one drawled.

"Well, a lot of creepy human history stuff," Astrid supplied. "For instance... Wait. Do you guys know anything about human anatomy?"

Again, the yellow one huffed. "More than I ever need or _wanted_ to know. Ratchet shoved that slag down all of our intake valves the minute we landed on this rock. Something about 'knowing our strength' or some other slag."

"Language," said Jazz. "She's hardly more than a youngling."

"Well, there was a group of humans in the Dark Ages known as the Vikings," said Astrid, ignoring both comments. "They were extremely warlike, and they invaded huge tracts of Europe, enslaving or killing most of the local populations. Some of their execution techniques were rather interesting, though. One especially, called the Viking Blood Eagle, was very creative. What they did was force you down on your stomach, slit open your back and pull out your lungs so they folded out to look like the wings of a bird, thus, the blood eagle."

Every mech present was shell shocked. From what they'd seen, humans, apart from some military personnel, were disgusted by any sight or mention of their own internal workings, and even more repulsed by descriptions of death and gory physical damage. Astrid was just a little human, and, from everything Jeremy had told them, a very sheltered femme, but to know things like the rite she'd just described...

"Can we keep her?" asked 'Sides.

"Too late now, 'Sides," said Jazz. "I saw her first."

"Technically speaking, Optimus and I saw her first," a familiar old mech said, approaching the gathering, "so you're all out of luck."

"Ratchet!" Astrid squealed. "What are you doing here? I thought you had... other stuff... that you had to do."

"I do," said the medic, "but I received news from the 'grapevine' as you humans say, that the twins were presently in the rec room, so I thought I might as well kill two turbo rats with one wrench."

"Beg pardon?"

"I thought it wise to ensure that my work had not been _damaged_ again so shortly after leaving my med bay," he said with a pointed look at the twins, "and both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are due for a systems check, anyway. As I said, one wrench."

The discussion deteriorated from there, and both Jazz and Bumblebee moved to shield the fragile human from the desperate brawl that ensued as the medic drew the two twins out of the room and towards what they kept on screaming was 'the Pit'. Once the door at closed behind the medic and his captives, though, things calmed down once again, and a good many of the mechs went off to attend to their duties elsewhere. Bumblebee was among these, and he left with a friendly goodbye and a promise to introduce her to anyone Jazz didn't later on.

Astrid waved shyly from where she still stood on the human rec platform as the lumbering robots moved on to perform their duties. She was still having problems keeping the terminology straight. Mechs. Robots. Autobots. Decepticons.

She only hoped Jeremy could help her sort all this out when he got back.

.O.O.O.

Anxiously, Will knocked the official looking papers in his hands straight on the edge of the tray before him. His eyes slid sideways to catch a glimpse of the young man stewing in the seat to his left, and he quickly directed them forward again. This already qualified as a long flight, but sitting next to a peeved elder brother as his younger sister sat around in an alien base of operations after being brutally attacked by a massive robotic monster made it a _very_ long flight. Jeremy was a good kid, Will knew, and normally spending this much time with him wouldn't be a problem. At the moment, however, the soldier was privately wishing for the safe defense of Ironhide's cannons between himself and that killer glare.

The plane shuddered to life as the pilot taxied it out towards the runway, and Will released his death grip on the papers in order to hastily fasten his seatbelt before he resumed looking busy. It was a rather pathetic attempt, in all honesty, but he felt as if he could at least act like Fenner was alone with his violent emotions and not strapped into the seat beside him...

Minutes later they were airborne. Once they'd broken through the clouds, the army man felt at ease enough to peer out the window at the fluffy white wonderland below him instead of keeping his eyes riveted to the stack of paper that was quickly becoming marred with wrinkles and sweaty hand prints. Idly, he wondered if Ratchet would be able to piece him back together if Fenner lost it... the wrath of a protective sibling was a terrible thing to be hit with...

"I shouldn't have left her alone."

Will's head jerked around from the window, and his hard gaze locked on his new assistant.

"I shouldn't have accepted this job."

"Jeremy," Will sighed, raking his fingers back through his cropped hair, "there's no way you could've known..."

"Yes, there was," said Fenner. "You told me as much before I signed the papers. You said it was dangerous."

"But none of us ever thought that Astrid of all people would be in any danger," Will argued. "Think about it for a minute before you go bashing your head against stuff. What could she have possibly offered the 'Cons? They thought she knew where the base was, Jeremy. Who knows what they thought? Maybe they believed that just because _I_ had contact with _either_ of you that you knew where the Autobots had set up camp. Or maybe they found out about our little road trip from Ohio... My point is that the Decepticons could've attacked her for any number or reasons. Don't beat yourself up about something that's probably not even your fault. I mean, did you stick a sign to her back or something that said 'squish me'?"

His last comment got the desired response, and Jeremy emerged from his stewing enough to crack a smile.

"There've been a few times I was tempted to, but... no."

"There. See?" Will leaned back in his seat, though he kept a sharp eye on the younger soldier. "She's made of tougher stuff than I thought, though. Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. Ratchet said she was doing great, especially considering how she met our friends."

"She's like that," said Jeremy. "She stands up pretty well against emotional pressure, at least around strangers. Give her some time to herself, though, and she'll let it all out after a little while. She still needs people, even though some folks have thought otherwise."

"Really?" Will asked. "Sarah and I always thought she was a sweet kid."

"She gets that a lot, too." Jeremy squirmed in his seat and tugged restlessly at his seatbelt. "She's sort of a dying breed, you could say. Of all the old fashioned, neat, logical little snots, she's the worst; she's a lady, or becoming one, and I can't help but get anxious about her every now and then. I mean, really, who nowadays doesn't think dating's a good a idea, or feels the need to wash her mouth out with soap is she says 'crap'.

"How the heck's she supposed to deal with a whole base full of robotic alien soldiers, sir?"

"We'll deal with that question a little bit at a time," said Will. "And try to remember, too, that the Autobots have a few gentlemen among them as well to take care of your little lady."

A/N: Thanks for reading! FEED THE STARVING AUTHORS! Leave a donation in the cute little box below.

Replies:

Willow Wings: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked those parts, worried Jazz is much fun to write. Hope to see another review from ya! And thanks again!

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	7. Of Brotherly Angst and Serious Glomping

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.

A/N: I have come to a very important point. I have realized that there are many other things in life more important to me than fan fic. Not that I didn't know that before, I'm just officially putting that out there. With the scanty number of reviews I have been receiving and my busy and somewhat stressful life in what we call the 'Real World' this fic and my other fic may not be updated for rather long periods of time. Just fair warning. Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter Seven: Of Brotherly Angst and Serious Glomping

Ironhide met his charge and the Fenner boy at the airport. They stepped quickly out of the busy automatic doors, which were open more often than closed at this time of day, and the two men made a beeline for the intimidating black pick-up patiently awaiting them by the curb. Even before Jeremy's seatbelt clicked into place, he was inquiring about his sister.

"How is she? Is she hurt? Have you got her talking? 'Cause if she's not talking it means she's probably freaked out of her mind..."

"Your sibling unit is FINE," growled Ironhide. "You can ask Ratchet all about her when we arrive. Or, better yet, you can ask the youngling yourself."

"Sorry," Jeremy muttered, sliding deeper into his seat. Few things still intimidated him since his entrance into the Air Force, but giant black trucks that turned into giant, bad tempered robots was one of those things.

Will patted the dashboard teasingly and scolded, "Behave, 'Hide. You're scaring the newbie. Now, give us some details. I want to know, too."

"Jazz arrived with the femme at approximately 2:00 A.M. local time," Iron replied, switching into soldier-gear. "She was taken directly to Ratchet, and when she woke up again at approximately 6:00 local time she was debriefed by Prime and the medic."

"At least she's up to speed," Will sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "That's one thing we won't have to worry about."

For the rest of the ride Jeremy maintained his silence, and neither Lennox nor Ironhide felt the need to break it. Thankfully, the weapons specialist bended a few traffic laws and shattered the speed limit on several back roads, so they arrived much sooner than anticipated. Ironhide had radioed ahead to alert the others that two humans were en route, and they were greeted by a party of three 'bots waiting for them just inside the door.

Optimus and Ratchet were standing to either side of Jazz, who had his hands cupped up protectively close to his chest. In contradiction to the behavior he had exhibited getting out of Ironhide, Jeremy hesitated near the stopped truck that was now rapidly unfolding behind him. Smoothly, like someone holding an infant they were afraid to jar awake, Jazz stepped forward and knelt in front of the young airman. He held his hands out slowly, curling back the fingers to reveal a slightly befuddled-looking Astrid.

"She just woke up," the Autobot informed Jeremy. "Might not be quite with it yet."

Scoot up so that he could offer his sister a hand down, Jeremy sheepishly mumbled, "Hey, sis."

"Hi, Jer," she replied in a slightly slurred voice. "Was' up?"

"Well, you right now," said Jeremy. "Here, let me help you down."

"Ok."

Jazz tipped his hand just enough so that the sleepy Astrid slid down to the waiting hands of her brother. The young man caught her easily enough, steadying her with his shoulder until she'd rediscovered what exactly it was her feet were for. As Astrid slowly rejoined the land of the conscious, Will crept out from behind Ironhide's legs, keeping an eye on his fellow soldier... just in case. Men were unpredictable things when family members were involved.

But he need not have worried. Jeremy was too busy blaming himself and Astrid was too concerned with not falling asleep again to cause any kind of scene.

"So..." Will said, edging closer to the young people, "you feeling better, Astrid?"

"Much," Astrid yawned. "Tired, though."

"That's what you get for staying up partying all night with giant mechs from outer space," said Will.

"Yeah. I'll remember that." Astrid's head dropped down to her brother's shoulder.

"I don't mean to be rude or anything," Jeremy said, looking up at the massive creatures still waiting patiently in front of him, "but would it be ok if we just went home now? Astrid looks whacked. We can discuss all this tomorrow..."

"Airman Fenner has a very good point," said Ratchet. "Her energy levels are severely depleted, and she is in desperate need of a lengthy recharge."

"Very well," Optimus intoned. "Jazz will bring you back a day from now, when Astrid is feeling more herself, and we may better discuss the situation."

"I'll bring the captain," Ironhide grumbled. "He should be here for this, too."

"I agree," both Lennox and Optimus said at once. They glanced at each other in quizzical surprise, but Jeremy interrupted them with a quiet cough.

Once again, the airman and his sister were the center of attention, and Jeremy shifted the drowsing Astrid in his arms. Quietly, he reminded them, "I, uh, I kinda need a lift home."

"Just a sec', little man," Jazz said.

In another minute he was in his Solstice disguise, and Will had helped Jeremy load Astrid, who was well past waking at this stage, into the passenger's seat. They exchanged hasty goodbyes and quickly climbed behind the wheels of their respective Autobot guardians.

Neither were anticipating the responses the women in their lives would give them once they got home.

.O.O.O.

With a giant yawn and a tremendous stretch, Astrid woke up. She looked around lazily, somewhat surprised to find herself back in her won room. The last thing she remembered was Jazz nudging her awake, and then seeing Jeremy... Jeremy! Jeremy was back!

Without further delay she swung her legs over the side of the bed and quickly tossed on a fresh set of clothes. Her poor brother never even knew what hit him as she came flying down the stairs and pounced on him from halfway across the kitchen.

"Jeremy!"

"_Vrrlgg!_"

Astrid's arms tightened around him like a boa constrictor, and the airman scrabbled o unlatch her fingers from the back of his t-shirt as he struggled to breathe.

"Off... Astrid... OFF... Get off!" he wheezed.

"Ok," chimed Astrid. Her arms fell back promptly to her sides a second later, and her face beamed with angelic innocence that Jeremy just _knew_ was not entirely genuine. They had, after all, spent many April Fool's Days in the same household.

He remained doubled-over for several more minutes before he raised his eyes warily to meet Astrid's. The younger girl's face was unusually bright and happy, especially considering that she'd nearly been squished to death by a giant, alien death machine. But at the same time, she didn't look upset, and Jeremy would rather she be insanely upbeat than traumatized with lingering fears.

"You look good," he said at last.

"Ratchet took care of me," she replied, some of the uncanny cheerfulness seeping out of her. "I'm fine... now."

"_Thank you_ for not having a panic attack on me," said Jeremy.

"You're welcome. You can thank the Autobots. They had to take the brunt of it."

"Right."

"...Are you mad?"

"Wha- No! Why the he- why the heck would I be mad?" Jeremy demanded, just catching himself before he spewed out a curse word and got a smack.

Glancing around the room, purposefully avoiding her brother's face, Astrid mumbled, "'Cause you're gonna be in trouble at work now..."

"Hey, hey," Jeremy said as he pulled his baby sister into a close hug. "I'm not in trouble. There's some paperwork that I'm sure will come piling up, but I'm not in trouble. Everybody knows it was an accident, and you're the last one anyone's blaming. Even Secretary Keller was concerned about you. He had his secretary arrange the flight home and everything."

"Sounds like a nice guy," Astrid sniffed.

"Yeah. He is."

Something dawned on Astrid then, and she looked up into Jeremy's eyes with new-found hope and excitement. "Will I get to see the Autobots again?"

Jeremy smirked. "I'm sure, sis. And don't forget that we still have one living in our garage."

Astrid squealed, pulling out of Jeremy's arms and hopping around the kitchen with her hands flapping at her sides and her hair bouncing in an untidy mess. For a couple minutes, Jeremy sated his frazzled nerves with watching Astrid's childish glee, and inwardly hoped that Will got as favorable a reaction at his house. Such a thing was unlikely, though, seeing as how worried wives dealt with things worse than younger sisters. Sarah Lennox would undoubtedly be furious at the attack on her new little friend. The only question was just who she would funnel that anger at. Then he stirred himself and went into the single car garage to talk with Jazz. The mech had been waiting patiently all day, and it was about time he got an update.

.O.O.O.

Astrid squirmed a little uncomfortably in the passenger's seat of Jazz's alternate form. She'd spent the remainder of the previous day sitting outside in the garage in front of the Solstice's bumper, carrying on a conversation with what she really knew was a very big robotic alien from outer space. It had been a strange sensation, but enlightening all the same. During her time in Autobot headquarters she'd still been too shell shocked to take in very much, but with Jazz's patient tutoring she was brought completely up to speed, and even felt like she knew a little more about Jazz personally. She'd wanted to bring out her soundtrack collection to let him listen to, but both the mech and her brother insisted that it was time she was getting to bed. The next day would be long and tiring for all involved.

Now she was glad she'd listened. They'd left at eight, which wasn't particularly early, but Astrid was still feeling the consequences of her very long night two days before. Several times she'd been tempted to take a snooze in the comfy seat of the car, but every time her eyes started drifting closed, she'd suddenly remember that she was sitting inside a living being, and she'd snap right awake again.

Captain William Lennox and Ironhide were waiting for them just inside the entrance, and Astrid climbed out of Jazz's safe interior extremely slowly. Her eyes immediately dropped shyly to the ground, and she shuffled her feet embarrassedly as she wondered whether they thought she was a total weakling and idiot for her reactions on that awful night. But she needn't have worried.

Will stepped forward before Jazz had even finished transforming to sweep Astrid into a concerned hug, and then held her out at arm's length to carefully scrutinize her.

"How you feeling, kid?" he asked lightly.

"Pretty good," said Astrid. She managed a shaky smile and glanced quickly passed Lennox's face towards the grouchy behemoth standing a little ways off with his arms crossed over his chest. Will followed her glance and waved Ironhide over eagerly.

"You remember Astrid, don't you, Ironhide?" he inquired.

"Clearly," the mech rumbled.

"Aw, now, 'Hide," Jazz admonished, clapping his fellow soldier on the arm, "but nice to the little lady. She's just a newbie, after all."

"Pleased to meet you," Ironhide grumbled. "Happy now?"

"Yep."

Will cleared his throat and smiled apologetically to everyone in the room. "I'm sorry to make this reunion so short, but we've got a meeting to go to, Fenner, and Ratchet wants to give Astrid a follow-up to make sure she'd doing alright."

"He's not paranoid much, is he?" said Astrid.

"Only very," said Will. "Now follow me, and I'll show you to the med bay."

The journey was very quiet, everyone occupied with trying to keep tensions low and figure out just where each person stood (both mentally and physically). For once there were hardly any mechs roaming the halls, and the Fenners would later be told that this was due to Prime's order to keep out of the way until they were sure Astrid was adjusting and her brother had calmed down from any brotherly instincts he may be running on.

As they walked, Astrid slipped her hand into Jeremy's, happily surprised when he didn't pull away like he usually did. Apparently little sisters who'd just endured life and death trauma were granted a little leeway in the macho brother department. "I love you," she whispered, seeing just how far that leeway extended. Jeremy dipped his gaze down to her, rolled his eyes, and looked back down the hallway in front of them.

Evidently that was too far a stretch... even for distressed siblings.

At last they arrived before the Autobot-sized door leading into Ratchet's domain, also more commonly known as the med bay. Will gave Astrid an encouraging little push towards the door before slapping a button placed low enough for humans to reach. The doors opened with an airy _swoosh_, and the soldiers, both human and mechanoid, left the teenager to fend for herself.

"Come in!" Ratchet's eternally irrate voice boomed from within.

Astrid gulped. He sounded a lot more annoyed than he had last time. But she slipped inside obediently, spotting the tall mech at once, though it took him a couple beats to spot _her_.

"What do you... Oh, Astrid," he said, changing gears from the royally ticked to the gently polite as he caught sight of his newest patient.

"Hey," she offered weakly.

"I trust Captain Lennox explained why I wanted to see you?" Ratchet inquired.

"Yeah. Check-up."

Gears rumbled and hummed as the medic gave an approving nod of his head. "Very good, now if you would just come this way..."

.O.O.O.

The impossible had occurred within the top secret walls of the Autobot Earth base. Ratchet had found a patient that he actually liked. Every mech and human aware of the transformers' presence on the planet was understandably shocked, but their surprise came with many smug smiles and gossip-swapping in the rec room. Of course, it wasn't like Ratchet wasn't the only one who was fond of the little human who was now appearing in their midst once or twice every week.

She'd been granted full security clearance since her episode with the infamous evil police cruiser, and Will had argued quite reasonably that she was far enough in now to attract more Decpticon attention, and without being fully informed, or fully initiated among the Autobot contingent, then she would be worse than a walking target.

By the way things were going, she'd have no problem summoning up a whole army of mechs if she so much as whimpered. Ratchet was treating her like the younglings he'd so delighted in back on Cybertron, Prime was acting much the same way, Bumblebee had taken to having movie and music trivia wars with her, and of course Jazz had practically adopted her as his own little sister. Every other member of the crew was at least familiar with the sight of the tiny femme as she went skipping through the halls or skittering over the mech-sized tables in the rec room.

And, of course, there were now several Air Force personnel walking around base with slightly lighter pockets and their airman's coin clutched constantly in one of their front pockets.

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GodisGod!andIamnot: Thank you very, VERY much! Dedication indeed! I hope you don't have to work so late again the near future. That is never, EVER fun. Hope this chapter makes you happy! Thanks again!


	8. Of Twin Terrors and Country Picnics

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.

A/N: So, very long time no see! I am terribly sorry for the delay (half a year, yikes!) but I have had life to deal with including: a very, very evil botany teacher, very evil botany tests, a rigorous (but excellent) creative writing course and all the other joys and sorrows that come with freshman year. But anyway, yeah.

HERE'S THE DEAL: If you are still interested, leave a review. I actually have a lot of this fic already written and sitting in my computer's memory. If you want me to finish this sucker and keep posting PLEASE say so. Personally, I use this as an outlet for my 'bwaa' which then clears my head for better writing (both style and plot-wise) so it will probably be written (especially after the new Transformers movie comes out) but I might not bother posting if no one is still reading. I do promise, however, that if there is a marked display of interest that I will update regularly (once a week) from here on out. Let me know! Thank you all for your patience!

Chapter Eight: Of Twin Terrors and Country Picnics

Before anyone realized it, months had begun to speed by, leaving everyone older, occasionally wiser, and just a little bit closer to their newly acquired friends. Astrid was in school again, and her visits to base grew less frequent, much to her dismay, but she still managed to hitch a ride with her brother every now and again on weekends. She was thrilled to find that she was still as warmly accepted as ever, and rather unhappy to discover that Jazz was telling stories about her gathered from her brother.

It was on one long weekend when Astrid really should've been doing homework instead of socializing with the twins that the Autobots got their first real glimpse at Astrid's mischievous side. She was suffering from a serious case of boredom with school, and she was about ready to paint Jazz pink after she caught him sharing a particularly embarrassing episode from her younger days with the entire rec room. She approached the twins, the twins saw an opportunity, and one of the greatest collaborations in pranking history was formed.

Jeremy was just sitting down to dinner on the human 'shelf' in the rec room when Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stumbled in through the doors with his sister sitting in the latter's hand, laughing her head off with the two mechs. Now, this alone would be cause to make any knowledgeable sibling concerned, but, coupled with his intimate knowledge of Astrid's nasty plot-making, Jeremy was downright terrified. He was just wondering whether whatever unfortunate soul they'd pranked would remain levelheaded enough to remember that Astrid was a mere squishy when Ratchet himself bellowed down the hall for all to hear, "STOP CONTAMINATING THE YOUNGLING!"

This instigated a new round of giggles from the apparent culprits and left Astrid clinging to 'Side's thumb as she wheezed for breath. Nearly everyone in the room had turned to look at the twin terrors and their newest accomplice, clearly wondering what they had gotten the girl into that would earn such wrath from the medic.

Jeremy slipped quietly away from his uneaten dinner and tip-toed cautiously through the base towards the med bay, where he had no doubt he would find the cause of the uproar. What he found, though, left even him speechless.

Sitting complacently on Ratchet's examination table were Jazz and Prowl, whose hands were both seemingly stuck to the same small datapad. Ratchet was fuming as he worked on finding some sort of solvent to the sticky stuff coating the offending object, and it seemed to Jeremy at least that he wasn't meeting with much success.

"Don't know what could've persuaded her... slagging twins... going to pay for this at their next examination..."

For someone whose hand was stuck extremely close to his fellow officer's on an innocent-looking datapad that was coated with what Jeremy had no doubt now was super glue, Jazz was taking things in stride pretty well. He even looked slightly amused by his adopted sister's creative revenge.

So he told stories about her? She'd have the whole base telling stories about him for the next month... or longer if things were slow. Jeremy could only imagine how many mechs must have seen Prowl and Jazz walking through the hallways with their hands like that, and he doubted that all of them managed to spot the tiny computer sticking them together.

"Never even saw it coming," Jazz was saying. "Clever little lady. I just picked up the datapad, and went to hand it to Prowl, but then... well, I guess you could say we got stuck on each other, 'doc."

As Ratchet's cursing was raised to the next level of anger and profanity, Jeremy slid to the floor in a helpless puddle of loud, extremely noticeable laughter. It didn't even matter when Ratchet shoved him none too gently out of the med bay. He was still laughing when the door closed.

.O.O.O.

The seasons slipped by with little change, and very soon, it was spring again, and the Lennox's were inviting every airman involved with the Autobots and their families to a picnic on their property in the nearby hills. Astrid was delighted, and happily prepared more than just the one required side dish that all families were supposed to bring with them in the interests of Sarah's sanity. There had been little time for get togethers with Jeremy's military friends and their families during the long, busy months of doom and dread known as senior year. But with the fresh breeze on her face and the smoky scent of the grill filling her nostrils, Astrid could hardly believe that she'd spent the whole fall and winter locked away in a brick and concrete prison.

It was wonderful to be out in the open again, surrounded by happy, laughing couples with little kids chasing each other around and earning their mothers' ire. Cliche? Oh, yes. Enjoyable? You betcha.

Astrid wandered over aimlessly towards the grill, where Will was cooking an impressive variety of meats and tubular, processed things that the manufacturers swore had originally come from an animal. Sarah was standing next to her husband, bouncing a giggling Annabelle on her hip. Pretty soon the little squirt was going to be too big for such things... and then Astrid was sure they'd see Will's side of the child... the trouble making side. It was amazing the sort of things a little kid could get into once they got used to doing more walking than riding.

"Hey, Sarah," said Astrid. "Hey, 'Belle."

"Hey, Astrid!" Sarah replied. The little girl in her arms swiftly buried her face in her mother's neck. "Say 'hi', Annabelle, don't be all shy on me."

Astrid smiled and shook her head, saying, "Aw, don't worry about it. A lot of kids are shy when they're little."

"Were you?" Will asked.

"No, but my brother was."

Out of nowhere, a plastic plate descended to whap her over the head, and she heard her brother grouching behind her as Will snickered.

"Blabbermouth," Jeremy accused.

"Creep."

"Squirt."

"Bossy."

"Shorty."

"Hey, now, that was a low blow!" Epps exclaimed as he walked onto the scene. "It's not her fault she's a little... vertically challenged."

"Thanks, Epps," said Astrid.

"Welcome, Astrid."

"Could you help me for a minute?" Sarah asked. "The stuff's about ready to come off the grill, and I can't carry it all... especially with Annabelle, here..."

"No problem," Astrid said. "What needs carrying?"

"Oh, everything."

"Too bad our friends over there can't lend a hand," Jeremy pointed out as he picked up a tray filled with burgers. They all looked towards the long gravel drive where a line of very nice, and very unusual cars were parked.

"Anyone else noticed that none of them seem like showing their... other sides tonight?" Epps asked.

"Oh," Sarah Lennox said airily, "they're just men is all. As soon as the work part's done they'll come out of hiding."

Will, still holding the metal spatula for the grill looked mildly offended, but all it took was a good batting of the eyes from his wife, and a noisy kiss on the cheek from his baby girl and he was glowing like a lantern again. Jeremy muttered under his breath and Epps laughed about never, _ever_ getting married while the ladies slipped away, arms loaded with provisions for the rickety card tables that had been set up on the broad lawn. The men followed a few minutes later, talking amongst themselves and glancing from time to time at the cars in the driveway.

The food was excellent, and everyone was lazing about contentedly after second and third helpings as the sun drifted low on the horizon. By that time all the mild joy and sweet smiles of the picnic had been enough for Astrid, and she was looking longingly towards the woods covering much of the Lennox's extensive property. A camper she was not, but she did enjoy a little exploring from time to time.

She traipsed over to where the military men (including her brother) had gathered, and asked in her most polite voice, "May I look around in the woods for a little while, Mr. Lennox?"

"Oh, yeah sure," said Will, looking around from his conversation. "Just don't get lost."

"No problem."

And off she went. On her way past the flotilla of cars she gave Jazz a thump on the hood and got a flash of lights in response. Then she slipped off into the trees on an overgrown deer path, out of sight and out of mind.

.O.O.O.

Life was good. With a drink in one hand, and one of his sister's mini cheesecakes in the other, Jeremy thought he was set for life. If only he never had to go in to work again... Not that his work was all that bad, though. Very few other people on Earth could claim to have a regular, paying job so cool as his. Still, though, just kicking back in the company of some fellow humans, talking about such manly things as football and video games, felt really nice.

The moment was short lived, however, as a little girl, one of the other soldier's children, came running out of the nearby forest, her arms thrown out in front of her and her little eyes leaking tears all down her face. Everyone froze. As her father dropped to one knee and scooped her up in his military-toned arms, a hush fell over the party. Normally a small child in tears wouldn't turn so many heads, but in a gathering of people aware of a galactic war between giant mechanical aliens raging on their own planet, they were a little more easily unnerved.

Sarah scooted a little closer to Will, and her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders almost protectively.

"What is it, sweetheart?" the soldier was asking his baby girl. "What's wrong? Did you fall?"

"N-no," the girl wailed.

"Just tell daddy," said the soldier coaxingly. "What's got my little girl so upset?"

"A monster, Daddy, monster!"

Unknowingly, the girl now had the undivided attention of every being, both human and Autobot, in the yard.

Cautiously, the soldier asked, "What kind of monster, baby?"

"That kind!" she shrieked, pointing over his shoulder.

Everyone turned to look, even as they heard the telltale noises of the Autobot soldiers transforming behind them. Sure enough: looming roughly half a mile away but still much too close for comfort was what could only be a Decepticon. It's head and shoulders poked out from the trees, its red eyes scanning back and forth over the assembly of its enemies and their allies only a short distance away.

"Move back!" Ironhide's rough voice ordered as several of his comrades began hurriedly ushering the humans back, away from the threat.

More children were crying now, and there was a worried buzz among the parents and various singles floating through the crowd. Jeremy snapped his head around to look for his own family, only to realize extremely belatedly that she had gone into the forest several minutes earlier. The only question was: in what direction had she gone? She was either very safe or in very much danger at that moment, and Jeremy doubted if she realized that just yet.

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	9. Of Police Brutality and Air Time

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue

A/N: Um... wow. Thank you all for the turn-out! I will keep posting. That said, I am terribly sorry for the late update, and for once I can say with a completely clear conscience that it was not my fault. My darling laptop, Frenzy, decided to play dead on me for two days. Then he came miraculously back to life just when I was too busy to update. So, yeah. I hope you all can forgive me and find it in your hearts to review again! I will reply to all the people with accounts in a few days.

Chapter Nine: Of Police Brutality and Air Time

They had been very lucky, Jeremy knew, as he watched the Autobots form a protective line in front of the far smaller humans behind them. There had been plenty of mechs at the picnic, even though they had kept in their vehicle forms up to that point, and now they were all bristling with weapons and whatever the robotic equivalent to testosterone was. Even more were on their way. As soon as they'd smelled trouble, Jazz had commed Optimus, and now the leader and quite a few of his best warriors were en route, ready to flatten a few Decepticon heads and protect their humans.

The only problem in Jeremy's mind was that his sister was missing in action, and no one had the foggiest idea where she might have gotten to. It was infuriating. Not only had she picked the worst time imaginable to slip off for a trip through the woods, but there was absolutely nothing he could do to help find her. All he could try was slipping away himself and getting into more trouble than he knew how to deal with along with Astrid. His greatest hope at the moment was that Jazz had picked the girl up on his scanners, and she was a safe distance away in the woods behind them, far from enemy hands... and feet.

More Decepticons had turned up, or had been there all along, and the battle lines had been drawn right on the edge of the Lennox's lawn. Several Jeremy recognized from his long debriefings with Will, but others were unknown to him. The ones he was familiar with, however, were all bad news. Cyclonus and Barricade, the slagger who'd tried to squash his sister, seemed to be leading the opposition, and Jeremy began praying harder than ever that Astrid was _not_ somewhere in the forest behind those Decepticons.

Weapons fire erupted so suddenly that no one knew which side had officially fired the first shot, though Jeremy was willing to bet it was Ironhide, who had been growing ever more trigger-happy since he'd first picked up Annabelle's quiet wailing on his audios. The humans dove as one towards the ground. With any luck a flat target was harder to hit than an upright one. Heavy feet made the earth jump and dance beneath them, and Jeremy raised his head just enough to see the action going on just in front of him.

The battle swung back and forth between the two factions, sometimes lady luck favoring one side, then the other. It was nothing short of nerve-wracking for the people lying on the ground, just waiting to be stepped on.

At last, the military men all seemed to have had enough of playing duck and cover, and Will led a small contingent into his house, returning moments later with more guns than Jeremy realized it was even legal to own. He accepted one from Epps and layed back down, bringing one of the bad guys into his sights.

With their human counterparts acting as back-up, the Autobots began to slowly advance across the newly created battlefield. The humans targeted every known weak point on the mechaniod body: the delicate armor beneath the chest, the unguarded joint parts and the bright, easily identified optics. Months of training and instruction from the transformers themselves had greatly increased the military's knowledge and skill against any Decepticon foes.

Optimus and his reinforcements arrived minutes later, called from the nearby countryside where a new transformer was due to make landfall. With these new developments, however, it was unanimously decided that the new arrival could wait a few hours while the leaders helped sort out this unexpected problem.

Then things took a sudden turn for the worse.

It turned out that Astrid had not been behind the Autobots _or_ the Decepticons. By some manner of very ill or very good luck, depending on how one looked at it, she'd wound up about halfway between the two warring factions, meaning that as she came stumbling out of the forest, fearful for her friends and family, she emerged smack dab in the middle of the battlefield. Optimus, Jazz and Barricade all spotted her at the same time, and vice versa.

With a startled little squawk Astrid turned tail and ran full speed away from the Decepticons. Optimus, with Jazz on his heels, surged forward to reach the girl, but unfortunately she'd emerged from the woods a little closer to the Decepticon line than to the Autobots, and just as Optimus stretched out his hand to haul the youngling back to safety, a black, clawed fist zipped out and snatched his target away. Behind him, Jazz let out a shout of frustration, and another, more human voice, echoed the sentiment from farther back in the lines.

A grin of fiendish glee spread over Barricade's face as he tauntingly waved the human in his grip back and forth in front of the Autobot leader. All around them the sounds of battle were dying down as the combatants spotted this new development. The Autobots were afraid to fire for fear of hitting Astrid, causing Barricade to drop her, or inciting the Decepticon to do something violent towards the tiny organic. The Decepticons were just happy to stand there gloating until their leaders made a move.

"Lose one of your pets, Prime?"

"Put her down, Barricade," Optimus said. "Slowly."

"I think not," the 'con scoffed. "Why, all I have to do is squeeze..." he continued, demonstrating the movement and eliciting a squeak from the human, "and I have the entire Autobot army at its knees."

"I wouldn't go that far, Deceptiscum," said Ironhide as he made a show of aiming at Barricade's head.

"Really? Well maybe I'm just wasting my time then," Barricade said. He clenched his fist even tighter, and in the dead silence that followed everyone could hear Astrid's frantic pants for breath.

"Ironhide," Prime ordered, "stand down." Ironhide complied.

"Better," said Barricade. "Decepticons, retreat... but take your time."

A chorus of gruff chuckles and electronic wheezes that the humans supposed was laughter came from the band of red-eyed creeps as they slipped back into the dark forest from whence they'd come. Some lingered to give last minute taunts and jeers to their enemies, who'd been winning just minutes before, and everyone could see the strain it put on Ironhide to just _let_ them walk away. At last, only Barricade was left and every eye and optic was glued to him. His next move might mean the end of a friend's life.

"You have what you wanted, Barricade," Optimus said, "now let the human go."

Barricade shrugged. "Whatever you want, Prime."

No one had time to stop him as the Decepticon pulled his arm back and then launched Astrid into the air. Jazz took off across the field after the sailing figure, but it was painfully obvious that he wouldn't reach her before she hit the ground.

Astrid's eyes were screwed shut from the moment she felt her old nemesis start to move, but the sudden flight did not come as a surprise. She still screamed, though. If she was gonna go, she was at least going to make some noise on the way. Her thoughts were erratic, flashing from the distant past to just earlier that evening with no order or reason. Who knew her life was so unorganized? But all she could think in at least partially coherent words was, 'GonnadiegonnadiegonnaDieGonnaDIEGONNADIEEEE!'

Her last thoughts before impacting with a solid surface was, 'How come I always wind up flying through the air when transformers are involved?'

The next thing she knew, she'd landed. The second thing that occurred to her was that she was still thinking, which meant she wasn't dead. Then she opened her eyes... and gurgled.

She was sitting on air. The air was _holding her_; she could feel it curling up and around like fingers... invisible fingers...

"Way ta go _Mirage!_" Jazz's distinctive bass shouted across the lawn.

As Astrid blinked confusedly the air around her began to warp and shimmer, and suddenly she was sitting in a real, solid, opaque hand. For one horrible moment she thought she was going to faint like a true damsel in distress. But the wave of dizziness passed, and she carefully tilted her head back to look up into the pale face of a transformer bearing the Autobot symbol.

"Seems I missed the party," it said.

"Yeah, but you caught the door prize," Jazz said. His new friend looked confused, but he ignored his fellow transformer for a change and reached out to gently scoop up Astrid from Mirage's now-visible grip. "Next time I see Barricade, I'll beat the slag outta him for ya, little lady."

"O-okay."

"Mirage." They all turned to see Optimus standing nearby, looking expectant. The new 'bot, Mirage, turned and saluted him obediently.

"Reporting for duty, sir."

"It is good to see you alive," Optimus said in a slightly warmer tone. "Every one of us that makes it this far is a great boon to our forces."

If Mirage had any kind of response to that, he never got a chance to say it, because right about then the humans arrived from their long run across the Lennox's front lawn. And one especially was being very vocal in his demands to see his sister. Jazz set the girl down on slightly wobbly legs to take the full force of her brother's concern. He smacked into her with the force of a freight train, but no one could hear her hiss of pain over Jeremy's loud shouts of relief and frustration.

"You are never going off by yourself again! Ever! I'll make Jazz haunt you, I swear," he stormed. His hug grew tighter and this time everyone _did_ hear Astrid's yelp of discomfort.

Jeremy quickly released her and Lennox placed a hand on her shoulder with concern. "You alright?"

"I'll live," she answered.

"That is yet to be determined."

"Oh boy." Astrid craned her neck up to look at the giant, angry medic standing just a few yards away from her, his generally serious mouth turned down in a severe frown. Needless to say, he was not a happy 'bot.

"Come here, Astrid," he ordered.

"Um... I'd really rather not..."

"Come. Here."

She ducked her head and shuffled over as slowly as possible without earning the medic's wrath, but she complied for the sake of her hide. None of the military personnel, including her brother, stepped forward to intervene for her. She made a note to prank them later.

Ratchet scooped her up without waiting for permission and swiftly scanned her for every injury known to mankind. What he found was enough to make him growl, but he didn't start spitting profanities, so Astrid figured her first prognosis had been correct. She'd live.

"Severe bruising over the entire torso," he ground out. "Nothing lethal, but she'll be in a good deal of pain for some time I should think."

"So... you're not going to lock me up in the infirmary or anything?" Astrid asked.

"Not unless you'd like me to."

"_NO_ thanks. I like my freedom. Thanks."

"Very well, then," Ratchet declared, redepositing her on the ground. "I will leave you in the very capable hands of your brother."

The Autobots moved off then to talk with the new soldier, filling him in on all that he'd missed and finding out whatever he knew about the universe in general. As the transformers talked among themselves, Jeremy came up and gently (for once) draped his arm over his sister's shoulders.

"I have a question," Astrid said, observing the group of mechanical organisms.

"Yeah?" said Jeremy.

"How come I've gotten beat up a heck of a lot more than you have, and you're the one who's 'officially' involved with these guys?" she demanded. "I mean, seriously, come on! Do I have D.I.D. printed on the back of my shirt or something?"

"D.I.D.?" Epps asked.

"Damsel in distress," Jeremy clarified. "Personally, I think you're just accident prone."

_Whack._

"Or they can't translate the difference between 'lady' and 'damsel'," Will said happily. "Jazz _does_ go around calling you 'little lady' all the time, and maybe they think being short makes you distressed."

Epps laughed.

_Whack, WHACK._

"Vertically challenged, remember? Vertically challenged." Then, giggling, she added, "You know what? I like hanging out with the Autobots. Next to them all of you look short, too."

A/N: FEED THE STARVING AUTHORS! LEAVE A REVIEW!

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'Ace: Thank you, thank you, thank you and thank you! Wow! I'm glad you enjoy the story, and I have great fun messing around with it, too. Hopefully from here on out I can keep up with the regular updates (Frenzy permitting).

GodisGod!andIamnot: Yes, summer is a wonderful, beautiful thing. Horticulture? I take it you mean botany. I had to take a lab for college and thought botany would be more fun than chemistry or whatnot... ah, the foolishness of youth. I'm still working on getting published, but such things take a LONG time and I've been too busy with school of late to send in many queries. Thank you for your compliments and your review!


	10. Of Mirages and Squishies

Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers, trust me, you would know, because it would be my name on the movie screen instead of Michael Bay's. So no suing, k?

A/N: For starters - IF YOU WANT REGULAR UPDATES, DON'T REVIEW AND THEN TAKE OFF LIKE YOU'VE GOT A DECEPTICON ON YOUR TAIL! Unless, of course, there actually is a 'Con on your tail. In that case, feel free to run. But, seriously, review, folks. It gets lonely on this end. There are at least twenty of you reading this, and I don't even ask that ALL of you review, but a few more would be nice.

I am not entirely pleased with this chapter, but my beta reader is presently on the far side of the country, and does not seem to enjoy answering her email, so... yeah. She'll regret it when she comes back and finds out that she's not ahead of you lot anymore. Just saw Transformers 2! Parts were really good, and I enjoyed it over all, but I have three issues: 1) they could at least INTRODUCE us to all the new team members 2) way too many innuendos, it was to the point of knocking the film down a star or two, because they were all so pointless and just plain STUPID 3) what the heck was with the Terminator 3 deja vu moment? Seriously? But it was still a pretty good film overall.

See the A/N at the end before you quiz me, and enjoy the chapter! AND PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW!

Chapter Ten: Of Mirages and Squishies

Ratchet had been right. Her torso hurt like Barricade had stepped on her. This fact did not get past the Autobots' sharp observations, and Astrid found herself being treated like she was made of glass whenever she was on base. Even at home Jeremy was far nicer than usual and had gone all sweet-big-brother on her. She knew it was a charade, but she decided to enjoy it while it lasted anyway.

College was now looming in her future, and the school year was winding down much faster than she would've liked. It was funny to think that she'd wanted so badly to get away from this little blip on the map before, and now all she wanted was to stay a little longer. For their part, her military and transformer friends were trying to make her last month a memorable one.

Thus far, she'd pranked her brother with the twins, been pranked _by_ her brother and the twins, gone through several rigorous examinations under Ratchet's watchful optic to see if he deemed her fit enough for college life, spent an entire afternoon racing around town avoiding her brother with Jazz, and had even dared to stand within a hundred foot radius while Wheeljack was experimenting with what he claimed were stable chemicals. After that last event she began wishing that she'd paid more attention to the teacher in chemistry. Maybe then she'd have had a little warning before stuff blew up in 'Jack's face.

The one person that she didn't see very much of at all was Mirage, the new 'bot on the block. After he'd so neatly saved her from a gruesome death at the hands of the very hard ground, he'd simply not been in the same circles anymore. Which was weird, because Jazz talked like the two of them were at least fairly good friends. From what she'd gathered, though, he wasn't the friendliest of beings. According to several unnamed sources he was snobby, arrogant, and entirely antisocial. In the end Astrid decided that she was probably better off now knowing him, even though she was still grateful for his timely arrival.

One day, as she sat in Jazz's passenger seat next to her brother, Astrid found herself trying to explain the importance of senior pictures to an extraterrestrial mechanical organism that had an indefinite life span.

"But what are they _for_?" Jazz pressed. "I know you femme's always love havin' your picture taken, but what's so important about _these_?"

"Well, most Americans move out of their childhood homes after highschool," Astrid said, "and go on to start lives of their own. Senior pictures are supposed to serve as reminders to everybody that knows you, I guess."

"You think they'd _forget_ you without 'em?"

"No, no, it's just a- well... Oh, forget it. Jeremy? Wanna have a whack at it?"

"Humans don't have literal photographic memories like you guys," said Jeremy. "The pictures just help us remember details about that person. And they're a little bit of an emotional thing. You only give pictures to your friends and family. So if someone gives you their picture than it's like a declaration of friendship."

"There were a lot of big words in that sentence, bro," Astrid chirped. "Is your brain strained from the effort?"

_Whack._

"No hittin' the little lady in my interior," Jazz said.

"But you let _her_ hit _me_!" said Jeremy.

"She's a lady. You're a dude. You'll live."

Astrid cackled. "I love you, Jazz!"

"I know, darlin'."

They pulled up to the Autobot base in a glorious dust cloud that rose dramatically around Jazz's alternate form as he spun to a stop in front of the wide hangar-like entrance. Epps was leaning against the door, most likely waiting for Jeremy, and grinned at the siblings as they emerged from their Autobot guardian.

"What's up?" Jeremy asked.

"Oh, nothin' much," Epps replied. "Just hangin'... waiting for you. Optimus is locked in his office with Will and that new 'bot. Haven't seen either of them all morning. How are you two doing?"

Astrid waved the small plastic cases containing her photos. "Got my senior pictures."

"Cool," said Epps. "Do I get one?"

"No."

"What?" he asked. "Why not?"

"It's indecent to go around giving pictures of yourself to soldiers," Astrid said merrily.

As they walked down the long hallways of the transformers' stronghold they bumped, almost literally, into Wheeljack, who seemed almost as bored as they were.

"Hello, 'Jack!" said Astrid.

"Hello, all of you," said the scientist. "Can I help you?"

"Would you like one of my senior pictures?" Astrid asked.

Wheeljack paused for a moment, probably looking up what 'senior pictures' were on the internet, but when he came back to the moment his head fins flashed happily and carefully extended his hand for Astrid to place one of the wallet sized prints in his palm.

"Certainly!"

"Hey, wait a minute!" said Epps. "What happened to not giving pictures of yourself to soldier boys, huh?"

"He's an alien," Astrid sniffed. "He doesn't count."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. Besides, they're my pictures, and I can give them to whoever I want," she said.

"Unless it's 'indecent' of you," said Epps.

"Precisely."

Epps shook his head. "Whatever."

They were interrupted then by the arrival of Lennox and Optimus, who had apparently taken down the barricade blocking Optimus's office and rejoined the land of the free.

"Hey, Lennox! Do you want a senior picture?" Astrid shouted.

"Now _he_ gets one?"

"Maybe later, Astrid," Will said. "Right now there's something that we need to discuss."

.O.O.O.

"I _beg_ your pardon?"

Will shifted almost guiltily in the hard, human-sized chair in Optimus's office. Beside him, Jeremy was sitting as silently as a stone, seeming to approve, but also seeming to understand his sister's reaction. Out of the three males, only Optimus seemed completely unfazed by the girl's displeasure.

"It is for your own safety," Optimus repeated. "Your government agrees with our decision. I also believe it would be highly beneficial for Mirage to have more interaction on a regular basis with nonmilitary humans. Actually, regular interaction with _any_ sort of humans would probably benefit his perception of this planet."

"But... but... why me?" Astrid demanded.

"Because, Miss Fenner, you are in need of a guardian of your own, and Mirage is in need of a human contact," said Optimus. "I fail to see the problem."

"But I'm going to _college!_" Astrid argued. "He'd be bored stiff there! And how are we supposed to 'interact' when he'll be pretending to be my _inanimate_ car all day _and_ all night?"

"The same way in which your brother communicates with Jazz."

"There are no private garages for college students! He'll be parked out where everyone can see him, and I don't know how comfortable your alternate modes are for you, but it better not bother Mirage because he'll be _stuck_ like that until winter break! Why can't I just be Jazz's charge?"

"Because he is busy looking after your brother," Optimus reminded her.

"So? That hasn't been a problem before," said Astrid.

"True, however, you were not living in an entirely different state before, either."

Astrid slid down in her chair, wishing it would come alive and just swallow her like something from a bad scifi movie. Anything short of being in Barricade's clutches again would be preferable to this. She might even consider sticking a sign to her own back that read 'Walking Target' while Sunny and 'Sides were in the room.

Had it been any other mech than Mirage Astrid would have been doing cartwheels. But _no_ it just had to be that arrogant, sassy, nose-in-the-air, peekaboo-playing...

.O.O.O.

"...uncreative, unprofessional, uninvolved organic!" Mirage ranted, venting over a cup of energon a slightly shell-shocked Wheeljack.

"Well, I don't think..." the scientist tried to reply.

"What I want to know is _why_?" Mirage continued. "I only just arrived, and the human clearly has little to do with any important missions or experiments being conducted here."

"Because she's a friend," a new voice put in. "And, besides, yo' idea of 'important' is open to argument there, 'Rage."

"Jazz," Mirage said warmly, "have a seat. What can you tell me about it? I understand you serve as a guardian to the elder sibling."

"Firstly, 'she' not 'it'," Jazz chuckled. "Manners count here, too."

"Alright, 'she'," Mirage consented. "What do you know?"

"For starters, she is not uncreative," Wheeljack interjected. "She's actually quite clever. Just ask the twins. She's teamed up with them on several occasions for matters of... retribution."

"Yeah, she's got a vengeful streak," said Jazz. "I suggest ya try not to trip that."

"Noted," Mirage nodded, "continue."

Jazz's processor whirred as he tried to dig up individual facts about the young woman that might be of use to her new guardian. "Don't honk your horn to wake a human up unless it's an emergency. That's just a general rule, though... Astrid's very... proper. She likes to stick to the rules. She bends 'em from time to time but she never goes straight against one. Look up stuff on the human's internet to find stuff about how gentlemen should treat ladies: opening doors when you're with 'er in holoform, tryin' not to swear around her and all that." He paused.

"Over all... just be good to her, Mirage," he said, his tone almost pleading. "She's a good one, and she's my little lady, so if anybody messes with her, including you, they're gonna hear from me."

"What do you think I'm going to do, step on her?" Mirage asked. With a gush of air from his intake valves, he let his helm fall into the palm of his hand. "They're so difficult to _take care of_."

"Oh, you won't have to worry about that," said Wheeljack. "Humans can maintain themselves perfectly well without any assistance. The only thing _you_'ll need to do is help her get around in your car form and keep an eye out for Decepticons."

"As if that won't be enough."

.O.O.O.

Astrid's senior year was extremely anticlimactic. Despite her best friend Jenna's advice, she'd never worn the beautiful prom dress that she'd hauled with her all the way from Ohio. There was always the off-chance that she could possibly wear it to some other formal event, but Astrid was seriously beginning to doubt it. Her senior solo was 'Into the West', but she'd hardly made any friends in choir, and the only person who gave a flip and really cheered at the end was her brother. At the end of the year awards celebration for the community service youth team she received a very nice little plaque for all her efforts with her name spelled incorrectly in swirly gold letters. Last, but not least, she'd forgone the time-honored tradition of even having a graduation party. After all, she thought, who could come? Her old friends were half a continent away, her distant relatives were scattered far and wide, and somehow she didn't think it was plausible for the Autobots to come tromping up to her front door with mushy letters and helium-filled balloons. If she was lucky she'd get the Lennoxs, Epps and her brother to attend.

Summer was spent sending off last minute college paperwork and trying to find all of the different things she'd need to survive in the dorms. She thanked heaven that money at least was not a problem. When long years of intensive study and straight A's paid off in full-ride scholarships, it was a beautiful thing.

Then there was the issue of Mirage. Optimus had agreed that he didn't need to actually start 'guarding' her until she'd moved out and could no longer fall under Jazz's protection. He did, however, insist that the spy 'visit' with Astrid in an effort to acquaint himself with her, and her to acquaint herself with him. None of their meetings lasted long. It wasn't that Mirage was blatantly rude, but every time they were in the same room together Astrid could just feel how much he wanted to be somewhere else. So she let him, and she let herself get on with her own life.

With any luck, she figured, the Decepticons would decide she really wasn't worth the effort and leave her alone for four years. That was all she needed, really, because she was fairly certain that if nothing more threatening than college-aged drivers had approached the university in all that time that Optimus would let the two dissolve their 'relationship'. Somehow she doubted either she or Mirage would want it to continue any longer than was absolutely necessary.

.O.O.O.

When Jazz picked Astrid up from the house and informed her that they needed to swing by the base and pick up her brother, her first inclination was to snap at him, but she managed to control her waspish tendencies and climbed mutely into the cab. She'd had a horrible end to the school year after all the great expectations she'd had for it throughout her first three years of highschool, and she just wanted to enjoy the remainder of her summer before she was chucked into another extremely social setting where she'd have to smile and bob at all times under threat of being mobbed by concerned teachers. Kids with a history like hers were pretty much automatically added to most adults' suicide watch.

After a couple minutes she let her head plunk against the glass of the window and stared morosely out at the desert scenery flying by. She tried not to think about all the fun she could've been having with her old friends, tried not to think of how many people she might have cajoled into attending her graduation party, or how many of her wacky acquaintances would've cat called and hooted as she crossed the stage to receive her diploma.

Jazz, being the intelligent and sharp-sensored Autobot that he was, noticed the changes in his charge's little sister and purred through his engine comfortingly. With a tug of the seatbelt, which was as close as he could come to a hug in that form, he gently inquired, "What's eatin' ya, little lady?"

"Just... stuff," Astrid sighed. The seatbelt pulled tighter and she rolled her eyes, which were growing teary as her thoughts continued.

"What kinda stuff? C'mon, you can tell the Jazz man."

"Well..."

"Yeah?"

"Well.. I just wonder what it would be like if my parents hadn't..."

Astrid found herself unable to finish the thought aloud, and wound up choking on the tears that were finally bubbling to the surface. The first drop trickled out from the corner of her eye, and she reached up to hastily wipe it away, but her old guardian had seen, and the living car pulled off to the side of the road and came to a slow stop.

"I know it's hard, Astrid," he said. "Losin' people you care about always hurts. I know. Been in a war longer 'n your race's been around. But ya still got friends. Sarah Lennox'd adopt ya if it weren't for your brother, I'm sure. And o' course all the guys think you're the little sister they never knew. Do I really need to say anythin' about what _we_ think about ya? The little lady that survived the rough and rowdy Barricade and tamed the wild Hatchet?"

Despite herself, Astrid giggled and Jazz moved out onto the road again, merging with the few cars driving on the lonely road out of Tranquility.

"Feel free ta talk to me anytime ya need, little lady," he said. "Even when you're off to yo' grand university, Jazz is always just a call away."

"Thanks," Astrid said, leaning back to snuggle deeper into the seat. "That means a lot."

They soon reached the Autobot base, however the lights were all off in the main hangar-area when they arrived, and Astrid wondered if the transformers had something like bedtime every night. She'd never been to base so late in the day before, so she had no idea, either way.

"Forget to pay the electric bill, Jazz?" she asked jokingly as she stepped out.

"Nah, don't know _what's_ goin' on," he said in a somewhat puzzled voice once he'd morphed into his bipedal shape. "Maybe Red Alert's afraid of an air strike."

Astrid tried to laugh nervously, but it came out sounding higher and far more strained than she'd intended.

"Stay behind me," Jazz said, moving off into the darkness.

"Yeah, sure... hey, wait up! Jazz! Slow down... Ah, boggarts."

Suddenly she was by herself in a very large, dark, echoing room, with no handy light switch or spotlight to guide her way. "Well, this rips." She tried stumbling forward a few steps, but the noise of her own feet startled her so badly that she deemed it better do be eaten while standing still by the nameless monster prowling the dark.

Then, without absolutely no warning, every light in that half of the base came to blazing life, and Astrid stumbled back, shielding her eyes as at least twenty voices all screamed _"Surprise!"_ at the top of their lungs. Her brother's arms clamped around her in a suffocating hug before she'd even regained her sense of sight, and several of their human military friends, including Epps and Lennox, came up to give her hearty slaps on the back.

"Were you surprised?" Wheeljack inquired anxiously.

"Extremely," said Astrid. She blinked some more and gave her head a thorough shake, grinning up at them all like an idiot. "You all rock, you know that?"

"Always have," Epps said. With a shove towards what looked like a sample of the buffet in heaven, he added, "Check out the food. They won't let us eat until you start chomping."

As she drifted around talking to some of her closer acquaintances, she ventured to ask Sideswipe and some of the younger 'bots, "So, is this a slightly belated graduation party, or going away party or...?"

"A bit of both," said 'Sides.

"And also a celebration for you and your new guardian," added Sunstreaker.

"You're the first human since Sam Witwicky outside of the military to get their own guardian," Sideswipe continued.

"_I shall call him squishy, and he shall be mine, and he shall be my squishy,"_ Bumblebee quoted.

Despite how uncomfortable the implications of that quote made her feel, Astrid laughed. It was only later that night, as she was resting in bed, listening to the summer swarms of bugs trying to breach through her window screen that she really began to consider everything that having a guardian involved.

.O.O.O.

The ride across the country was long and uncomfortable. Mirage pulled over for Astrid without complaint whenever she needed food or a rest break, but somehow she suspected that this was more from needing a break from the awkwardness than concern for her welfare. Sunstreaker, for example cared for her almost as much as his brother, but he would have griped about the frequent pit stops every time he was forced to leave the highway. Nothing about Mirage had a the friendly talkativeness or even companionly silence that his fellow Autobots possessed.

She wanted to go home, and it had only been five hours into the trip.

When the sun was finally beginning to set, the transformer finally decided it was about time to at least attempt a conversation with the human he'd be guarding for the next four years... at the least.

"I understand that humans select a major when they enter college," he said. "May I inquire what you are training in?"

"Vocal music," Astrid replied.

A slight choking noise from the engine that sounded suspiciously like a snort reverberated through in the car's cab. "No wonder you and Jazz get along so well."

"What makes _you_ two get along so well?" Astrid inquired.

"So well?" Mirage asked, amused. "What makes you think we get along 'so well'?"

"I don't know," Astrid said. "You just seem to talk more with him than nearly anyone else."

Mirage considered a moment and then answered, "Jazz likes everyone. It is not difficult to get along with him, and he is a very informed mech on several subjects."

"What about you?" asked Astrid. "I don't know anything about you at all... besides the fact that you can shoot better than anyone else on base and can turn invisible."

"I am from a... higher class than many of the other mechs you know," he said. "We have different interests and are involved with different pursuits... I prefer high society to crude jokes and rough games. And I prefer peace to war. It is my belief that there are other ways to achieve the peace we all desire than by violence."

"Negotiation," said Astrid. "Always something that should be tried before fighting, but... sometimes you just can't reason with people. Like the terrorists here on Earth. No matter what you say to them, they'll still hate you, want to kill you. Despite that, though, they're still people, they still have souls and lives. Something had to make them that way." Astrid combed her fingers back through her hair and leaned back in the seat. "Unfortunately not everything in life has an easy answer."

By then they were pulling up to the school's parking lot, but any nervous, freshman thoughts were jarred from Astrid's mind as Mirage said in suave superiority, "Well, perhaps when you've been in a war for over a millennia and seen your whole world utterly consumed by it, you'll have a different point of view."

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Mirage skidded to a halt in front of the dorm building with a squeal of brakes and smoking tires. As he tried to figure out what the slag just happened, he realized that Astrid's tiny hand was resting on the inside door handle. All the while that he was floundering for words, Astrid was grabbing as much of her stuff as she could take in one trip and climbing out of the car.

"What are you...?"

"Preparing to start my life all over again for the second time in just over a year," she snapped. "In case you didn't get the file on me or something, I feel it is my duty to inform you that while my entire _planet_ has not been destroyed by war, my world has been knocked for a loop more than enough- _I_ feel- for _anyone_ to consider me a competent young woman, who, granted, still has a lot to learn, but has an opinion that's worthy of at least one iota of respect. My parents died _just_ before I started my senior year of highschool; I had to move halfway across the country to live with a brother that I don't even get along with all that well; I got the slag scared out of me, and got several really nasty bruises from _Barricade, _and that was even _before_ I found out that nearly everything I believed about the universe was completely mistaken. Now, my brother is not only in the military while my country's at war with terrorists, but he's involved while the whole world is fighting against a technologically superior race that thinks we're lower than dirt and wants to eradicate us from the galaxy. Oh, and I'm entering college, which, in my opinion, is the scariest thing a person my age could possibly face."

She marched off then to the glass door that led into her new residence hall, swiping her ID card with much more ferocity than such an action demanded. Mirage sat where he was, still trying to shake off the last of his shock and trying even harder to think of the words that would smooth over the situation. When she returned, though, she wanted nothing more from him than the rest of her luggage.

"Astrid..."

"Just shut-up, Mirage," she said.

Then she went back into the residence hall, and Mirage wheeled himself quietly off-campus and went for a very long drive, venting internally about moody organic femmes.

A/N: So... feedback? I don't know as much about Mirage as I would like, but I tried to piece this version of him together from all the different versions I've picked up from fanfic/websites. How close am I? General ballpark at least? Astrid flipping out is also something I'm sure will be questioned, but - seriously, folks - she's been through a lot and EVERY young lady I've ever known has moments where they just have to take it out on someone or something. Mirage just doesn't know how to see the warning signs yet.

Replies to those without accounts:

GodisGod!andIamnot: Thanks for the review! Yeah, she has her moments as a DID. Unfortunately, I think that goes with this one's personality. This is also just my way of getting the inner fangirl to shut-up so I can do serious (better and more sellable) writing, and what fangirl DOESN'T want to be rescued by a dashing Autobot? ;) Frenzy and I have patched at least part of our relationship, enough that he keeps functioning, anyway, even if he's still driving me crazy. Hope to see another review!

'Ace: Thank you! Decepticons are creeps, but Astrid's been lucky so far. Is that foreshadowing? Not at all. Thank you and thank you again! Hope to hear from you again soon!


	11. Of Freshman Blues, Long Lost Companions

Disclaimer: If you have to sue someone, pick someone with a bigger wallet. If you try to sue me all you're gonna get are moths and candy wrappers.

A/N: Um, wow. I should guilt trip you guys more often! I am astonished and flattered at the number of reviews! Speaking of reviews, drop another would ya? thanks! Anyway, I will reply to those of you with accounts sometime this weekend. Tomorrow promises to be a long day (family reunion/4th of July small group party...) but hopefully I can get back to everyone before Monday.

HAPPY 4th, my fellow Americans!!!!

Chapter Eleven: Of Freshman Blues and Long Lost Companions

Astrid's head hit her pillow with a very definite and very depressed thud that evening. It had taken her a while to unpack and get at least most of her belongs put in their new places, and the experience had been, quite honestly, depressing. As she dragged her bedding, books, clothes, toiletries and every nick-knack she could possibly need during the next few months up to the stairs, she'd been forced to watch all the other girls on her floor come in with their laughing, loving families.

It was salt in the wound.

All it served was to reminder her that her brother was busy hanging out with the coolest beings to ever exist instead of taking a break to help his baby sister move into her new dorm, and her parents, well... suffice it to say they weren't going to be around for much of anything anymore. And so it was with a heavy heart and a headache to beat all that she finally let herself flop onto her newly made bed, muffling her screams of rage and heartbreak in her colorful pillows.

Then, something sat on her.

Her first reaction was to squawk in righteous indignation, but the effect was a bit less mature-sounding than she'd intended due to the absorbing qualities of the fluffy pillows. The new weight on her back bounced up and down gleefully, eliciting another groan from the victim pinned beneath. This seemed to amuse Astrid's tormentor, and the bouncing weight cackled.

"Jhrmmhhm, hmm HRRMM!"

"Sorry?" Astrid heard her unwelcome companion ask. "What was that?"

Astrid dragged her face free of the fluffy sleeping aid with great effort and growled, "Jenna, get OFF!"

"Oh, is that what you said?" the other girl asked cheerily. "Alright, then."

She hopped off immediately, leaving Astrid to roll over and take in deep, exaggerated, gasping breaths.

"Oh, come on," Jenna said, folding her arms. "I'm not that fat."

"Fat enough," Astrid wheezed. A pillow sailed across the room to collide with her face. "Hey! Those are _my_ throw pillows!"

"So?"

"You can only throw your own throw pillows! It's a rule somewhere!"

Jenna laughed as she hoisted one of her own bags onto the squeaky, bare bed beside Astrid's. "I'll believe that when I see it in a book."

"I'm sure they have some sort of publishing facilities on campus..." _whack_ "What did I _just_ say about _my_ pillows?"

"Not to touch them and be a good little girl," Jenna cooed.

"Precisely."

"I never did listen to someone who's better behaved than I am."

Astrid's eyes rolled skyward. "Yeah, right. And who was it exactly who got voted 'most likely to replace Principal Tylerman' in the highschool yearbook?"

The response was a rough _zzzzrrp_ as Jenna unzipped her largest duffle bag. It was all Astrid could do to restrain her giggles. Her friend glowered at every piece of clothing she pulled out of her bag like it was personally responsible for every woe she'd ever suffered and Astrid chewed on her bottom lip to hide her smile.

"Who spilled?" Jenna demanded at last.

"Kelly."

"Hmm. She now has exactly four months to live," said Jenna.

That did it. Astrid fell back flat on her bed, howling at the posters she'd already stuck to the ceiling. Sadly, lying in that position made in impossible to see what emotions were playing over her friend's face, or what items were being removed from her suitcase.

_Whack_. She sat up abruptly, utterly confused by the fact that all of her _own_ pillows were already surrounding her head... Jenna grinned.

"Not your pillow."

Astrid returned the favor, chucking the soft projectile _back_ at her friend's head and scoring a direct hit on her ear.

"Hey! You just broke your own rule!"

Astrid shrugged. "My rules."

Then the full fury of the teenage pillow fight was unleashed on the new dorm room, and the two friends' freshman year began.

.O.O.O.

It was busy in the cafeteria at lunch time, filled with students coming from and heading back to class. Not a single soul wasn't rushed, but, on the other hand, there wasn't a soul that wasn't smiling either. The beginning kinks of freshman year had been mostly overcome during the first week, and by that Friday afternoon people were beginning to relax. Friends had been made, and the first of the new cliches were just starting to form. The sun was shining, the first round of tests was still weeks away, the teachers hadn't picked favorites yet and all was well with the world. And, if that wasn't enough, they were serving macaroni and cheese on the 'home style' line.

Astrid plopped down in a seat next to Jenna with a broad grin and a full tray. Her companion was already halfway through her salad by that point in time, but it was a well-known fact to anyone who knew Jenna that she ate slower than the most talkative grandma on the planet.

"You got a lot to eat there, Jen," Astrid teased. "Sure you'll be able to finish all of it before your next class starts?"

Jenna stuck out her tongue...with the remains of her bite of salad still in her mouth.

Astrid's nose wrinkled up. "Ew," she said.

"Oh, really," said Jenna. "I'm sure your brother's done worse."

"Yeah," Astrid said as she suddenly became engrossed with her own meal.

Sensing the change in Astrid's mood, Jenna paused, taking a very long time to finish chewing and swallowing carefully. By that time Astrid's eyes had started drifting towards the window... and the parking lot that it overlooked.

"I'm sorry," Jenna said. "I seem to forget details like that a lot. However... I am curious. What happened exactly between you two? I mean, I know you were never close, but..."

"Nothing happened," Astrid said, officially giving up on the rest of her lunch and pushing the tray back. "I'm just frustrated is all." She was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next thought. "I really don't know what I expected. Asking him to leave his job, even for such a short length of time was really too much to ask..."

"So you didn't," Jenna supplied.

"No," Astrid said contemplatively. "I didn't."

Her eyes finished their journey across the parking lot, which was filled with secondhand, student-owned rust buckets... except for one very shiny, very conspicuous Ford GT. Her mental moan must have had a physical counterpart, because Jenna's eyebrows rose and her mouth opened to form the inevitable question.

"What's up, chicka?"

"That," Astrid said, "has a very complicated answer."

Jenna's hands were instantly raised. "You don't even have to start," she said. "I've had more than a few run-ins with 'very complicated' things in my life, and each time I've walked away knowing that said things would have been better if they were just left alone." She shrugged. "I personally feel that those with long noses - who aren't part of such messes - should get plastic surgery to fix the problem."

Astrid just shook her head. "Jenna, what did I ever do to deserve a friend like you?"

"Nothin'," she replied, taking a swig from her glass of pop. "You're just one extremely lucky idiot."

Once again, eyes rolled, and Astrid rose to place her tray on the 'dirty dish conveyor belt' without further comment.

She had another problem besides her brother on her mind. And that problem had blue and silver paint, the world's worst attitude and was named Mirage. She hadn't spoken to him in a week, not since she'd blown up and stormed off to her dorm room. Now she was going to have to talk to him again... face to steering wheel. As she walked out to the all too obvious vehicle, she wondered just how crazy she would be deemed by all of her new friends if she was caught carrying on a conversation with her car.

All the way across the open parking lot, she could feel sharp eyes watching her, gauging her progress. She wondered if Mirage felt the same way about her that she felt about him. It wouldn't surprise her. There had been plenty of people she'd bumped into that didn't like her all that much, and it would be just her luck to have her Autobot guardian fall into that category. In the end, though, it didn't matter all that much. They only had to speak to each other enough to keep in regular contact, keep an eye out for trouble, and put up with each other for four years. Astrid figured that if she'd survived living with her brother for the first sixteen years of her life, she'd be able to survive minimal contact with Mirage for four.

She climbed into the passenger's side and closed the door softly after her. Mirage didn't say a word. For several minutes they both waited, expecting the other to begin the inevitable - if undesired - conversation, but when neither one said anything, the atmosphere started to become strained. At last, Astrid felt the need to say something, anything, and blurted out the first thing on her mind.

"You know your alternate form sticks out like a sore thumb, right?"

Mirage seemed to ponder this, but wound up replying, "Does it matter?"

"Maybe." Astrid sighed, pushing the stray baby hairs that had escaped from her ponytail out of her face. "You _are_ supposed to be 'in hiding' right?"

"Correct," Mirage said, "however I seriously doubt that any member of your race not previously informed of our existence would connect a particularly attractive vehicle with extraterrestrial organisms."

"Well, if they can jump to the conclusion that hot air balloons are UFO's... Just do whatever you want, Mirage, but try to keep a low profile coming and going, would you? I figure I can stretch the truth a bit and say that this is my friend's car, and sometimes he leaves it in the parking lot for me to borrow. That way if you ever have to actually take me somewhere there won't be a big to-do over it. Would that suit you?"

"This story will suffice," the Autobot replied. "And I shall cover my own tracks where needed."

"Don't forget," Astrid said, swinging the door back open and stepping out, "don't transform in the parking lot, ok?"

Mirage made a noise that was probably a grumble of irritation, and Astrid smirked triumphantly. Then she left the robotic alien parked in the student lot and went back to finish out her day of classes.

.O.O.O.

It was very late at night when the knock came on their door, and both Astrid and Jenna glanced at each other in confusion. Jenna, being the braver of the two, went to go investigate, but from her desk Astrid could hear the entire conversation.

"Is this Astrid Fenner's room?" a peculiarly familiar voice inquired.

"It is," Jenna replied. "What do you want? You do know boys aren't supposed to be up here after midnight, right?"

"I understand, but it is a matter of importance," the visitor, obviously male, insisted. "Is she here?"

"Hold on a minute." Jenna closed the door again and looked back at her roomie. "Do you know him?"

"Who is it?" Astrid asked.

"I didn't ask what his name was," Jenna said, looking slightly abashed.

Astrid threw a sharp glance at her laptop's screen, deciding that her essay on the difference between the styles of Charlotte and Emily Bronte would not be progressing much more that night. Without further thought, she rose, tossed on her robe and approached the door. There was a spoken and established rule between herself and Jenna that there were to be no boys in their room for any reason short of an absolute, real emergency. So she went to meet her guest in the hallway, which wasn't so good to avoid eavesdroppers, but would keep to her own stringent code of honor. The man at the door, however, drove all other thoughts out of her head.

He was - quite simply put - gorgeous. Long, impossibly pale and straight blonde hair fell neatly just past his shoulders, and his skin was cast over with a delicately light tan. His clothing was impeccable, made up of what Astrid, with her limited fashion knowledge, was sure were designer brands. Everything he wore was cool in color, from his white shirt and grey sweater to his long blue overcoat. Astrid tried to remember any man she'd ever really seen wearing an overcoat. She'd always been upset that they'd gone out of fashion after the early nineteen hundreds.

Considering the fact that she was just a teenager girl in a dark hallway, though, her first coherent thought was to be alarmed. She opened her mouth to demand to know who he was, but at just that moment he raised his eyes, and the unnatural electric blue silenced her earlier question.

"What are you doing here, Mirage?"

"There is a message from Prime," he answered. "He wanted you to be alerted immediately that there has been a breach in base security." Astrid's face must have shown her alarm, for he plunged on quickly. "The computer systems were hacked, and they were hacked by a Decepticon, one we'd hoped would not come here. He is very dangerous, and it is because of the information that was stolen that Prime felt you should be informed. Records concerning all of the Autobot's allies here on Earth was carefully examined and copied... including your own file."

"I have a file?"

One of Mirage's delicate white eyebrows quirked upwards and for a split second she could almost have sworn that one corner of his mouth quirked up with it. But she must have imagined it, because the next moment his face was as refined and unmoving as ever.

"Naturally," he said simply. "You are very deeply involved for a human, especially a human who is not even a part of your military."

"Well, then would you kindly excuse my naive ignorance of Cybertronian information-keeping protocol?" Astrid simpered.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and both arguers turned to see Jenna peeking out from behind the door, looking sorry, but insistent. "I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear, but though I hate to interrupt, there _is_ an RA patrol that comes through here every couple of hours or so, and I don't think either of you would like to be caught gossiping in the hall when they arrive."

Mirage nodded, quickly bowed and bid goodnight to the two ladies, and vanished down the dark hallway. For a moment the pair of friends stood looking after him. Gawking, really. Then Jenna finally mustered the breath to ask, "Did he just _bow?_"

.O.O.O.

The first semester of school was over almost before Astrid realized that it had began. Her first round of finals was over, and for that she was grateful. Juries were also over, which made her even happier. However, she now had to part from Jenna for nearly an entire month while she returned to Tranquility for the winter holidays and Jenna went back to her own family. Astrid was horrified at the prospect of the long drive back in Mirage's finely upholstered interior, but at the same time she was very much looking forward to seeing all the rest of her Autobot buddies... and her brother. She and Jeremy had kept up a steady correspondence via e-mail, but for once they were both truly looking forward to seeing one another face to face.

There was only one problem with all of this, and that was how she would dodge around any questions concerning Mirage. Despite the way guardians and their charges were expected to bond with each other, she had seen very little of the Ford GT. He was there only off and on during the daylight hours, preferring to patrol the area and find secluded places where he could... be himself. Only at night did he stay in the parking lot, keeping a silent vigil over the small town campus. There was very little interaction between guardian and charge. Neither had any doubt that this fact would annoy and possibly infuriate several rather high ranking individuals in the Autobot army.

On their way home they were each extremely preoccupied with coming up with every excuse, both possible and improbable, for not being better acquainted after four months. It would be difficult, very near impossible to explain, so they'd both silently agreed to not even attempt to lie and just stick with the old 'we were really busy' routine. Neither option was likely to be too successful, but they felt that the second choice had the better chance of diverting attention.

Their arrival was greeted with much fanfare, which Astrid found far too loud after so many hours of utter silence. Jazz was blasting them all with his speakers and the twins had discovered the horror known as too-often repeated Christmas music- most of it far too modern for Astrid's tastes. There was also much back-slapping from the military men and kind inquiries from some of the more mature members of the company about her first semester of college. Finally, Jeremy elbowed his way through the crowd, and Astrid was happy to be swept up in his overly enthusiastic squeeze that felt like it would pop her shoulders right out of their sockets and crush her lungs together. But she was happy. After being surrounded by so many unfamiliar things, it was surprising just how happy she was to be back with things and people that were known to her.

Since she'd been unable to come home for Thanksgiving break, it seemed that everyone was obsessed with making this holiday count for both. Surprisingly, it _did_ turn out to be enjoyable for all involved... at least... until the questions started.

A/N: Feed the starving authors! Leave a review!

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Ali: Thank you, thank you and thank you! I enjoy writing it, and I'm glad you enjoy reading it!

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	12. Of Christmas Bells and Encouragement

Disclaimer: Me no own and you no sue, doo-da, doo-da...

A/N: Yay! More reviews! I love you guys, and I'll get back to you over the weekend. My muse kicked me out of bed last night and made me write more... on this fic... so be grateful. But, yeah, **NEW DEAL**! I will still update once a week, as promised, but I'm holding a goody-bag out as encouragement for more reviews: I will update again as soon as I have twelve reviews (or more). Considering the numbers you guys have been leaving me, it shouldn't be too difficult for you. Thanks for all of the encouragement!

Chapter Twelve: Of Christmas Bells and Well-Meant Encouragement

"So," Jeremy said, popping the cap off a bottle of pop, "how are things going with you and Mirage? Been allowed in the driver's seat yet?"

Astrid slowed down the speed of her chewing. She suddenly realized that she ought to take time to carefully savor each aspect of her oatmeal and make sure it was flawlessly mushy before swallowing. Chewing your food really well was supposed to be very healthy for you, right? This also gave her time to think out her answer. Unfortunately, Jeremy knew a delay tactic when he saw one, and in the blink of an eye he'd gone from offhandedly curious to overbearing older brother.

"Astrid," he said in a warning voice, "what aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," she said honestly. "There's nothing."

"Aren't you getting along with Mirage?" he asked.

"We get along fine," Astrid snapped. She grabbed viciously for her glass of milk and took a gulp before even trying to continue. "It's just that we aren't bosom buddies is all. Is that a crime?"

"Nooo," Jeremy said slowly. "Most of us just think that it... helps... if you develop some kind of relationship with your guardian. Look at me and Jazz! Or Will and Ironhide. It helps the Autobots see what they're fighting for, and it helps us... not freak out."

"I haven't freaked out," Astrid grumped.

"Yeah, but you don't seem too happy about all this, either," Jeremy said.

"If you remember, I wasn't happy about this whole arrangement from the _start_," she growled. "_You're_ one of the ones that thought it was such a fabulous idea."

"I never said that."

"But you sure didn't argue much with Prime about it."

"Right. Who the heck argues with _Optimus Prime_?"

"You have a point," Astrid consented, "and for that I won't kill you before I go psycho and try to paint Mirage lime green in his sleep."

.O.O.O.

"_I'm going to dismantle that slagger with a spork_!"

Both Jeremy and Astrid winced at the earsplitting roar that reverberated from the med bay. Will trotted up to meet them, looking thoroughly frazzled.

"What's going on?" Jeremy asked.

"Well, doctor Ratchet has turned into Mr. Hatchet, but I guess you've figured that out already," he said.

Astrid hesitated. "Does it have to do with..."

"You and Mirage?" Will asked. "Hit the nail on the head. Prime took Mirage into his office with a few of his key advisors to ask him some questions about how things were going. Needless to say, the cat's out of the bag." He cast a slightly disapproving look in Astrid's direction, and she shrank down in immediate dejection. A lot of things she could handle with ease, but disappointment never failed to flatten her.

Jeremy's arm dropped down on her shoulders, and Astrid found the will to ask, "So Ratchet's really mad at me?"

"Ah, no," Will said, shifting to his other foot with an amused smile that he was trying very hard to suppress. "No, he's just mad at Mirage. Poor guy didn't even have a chance. He just walked into the med bay and got a welder to the helm. Jazz isn't too happy with him, either. Pretty much all the mechs are on your side, Astrid, and I can't honestly say that I'm too against you, either. The one _you_ need to worry about is Prime. He's just ticked with _both_ of you."

"Well," Astrid said, adopting an insincere smile, "that's comforting."

"That's good," said Will, "because right now Optimus wants to see you."

"Oh... great."

With that they turned and started walking the all too short journey to Prime's office. All of them were quiet, although Will didn't seem too concerned and Jeremy was even fighting down a smirk. Astrid was the only one who seemed really worried. Would he hate her? Would he ask that she completely dissolve her relationship with the rest of the Autobots since she didn't seem able to follow the rules and work with the difficulty of a guardian?

Will caught on to her mood just when they came to a stop in front of the transformer-sized door that led to the leader's work room and offered her a kinder smile. "Relax," he said. "They don't hurt humans, remember? All he wants to do is talk." He punched the human-level button and stepped aside.

Astrid took a mighty gulp, much to the men's amusement, and stepped inside. The door closing behind her startled her much more than it should have, and Astrid suddenly felt like a guilty child sent to the principal's office. Her eyes dropped from Prime's lofty desk to the shiny floor, and her hands folded themselves behind her back of their own accord.

"Astrid?"

She glanced up, abashed before he'd said more than her name. Optimus was sitting in the massive chair behind the desk, hands placed before him, eyes focused on the little human drooping before him.

"Have a seat, please," he said.

Mutely, Astrid obeyed and took a seat in the same chair she'd sat in when Optimus first informed her that he was assigning Mirage to be her guardian. What was it about Mirage that kept getting her called into Prime's office?

"Astrid," Prime said in his gentlest voice, "you are not in trouble." She looked up. "I merely wish to discuss the situation with Mirage."

"Oh."

"Yes. 'Oh'," Prime said. He leaned back in his chair."Would you care to inform me what is exactly is going on?"

"Not much?"

Prime's gears groaned and he slowly lifted a hand to cover his optics. "Mirage's reply was much the same."

"At least you know we're not jerking your chain," Astrid said hopefully.

"True," Optimus sighed, "but I'm afraid that doesn't solve the problem."

"No," Astrid admitted, falling back into her seat, "I guess it doesn't."

"So what can we do to resolve this situation?"

"Get me a new guardian?"

"The reasons you were paired together have not changed, Astrid," Optimus said. "We will not find the answer to this dilemma by giving up on the entire issue. You are still in danger, and Mirage is still in need of human contact. From what I understand, Astrid, he has been doing his job as guardian, but neither of you have been doing your jobs as companions and allies."

Shamefaced once again, she fidgeted in her seat and glanced away from Optimus's face.

"We just don't like each other, sir," she said. "He's an egotistical snob, and I'm sure he sees me as some organic smear that he has to put up with."

"Or could it be that you are both strongly opinionated and, dare I say, stubborn members of your respective species?"

"Hm. That might also have something to do with it."

"I thought as much," Optimus said, a smile in his voice. "It is my opinion that all the two of you need is to learn the things about the other person that you could respect. For example, as you've insinuated with your earlier comments, Mirage is very 'well bred' as you humans say, and I'm sure he'd be more likely than many of my other soldiers to enjoy some of your cultural events."

"Possibly," Astrid said grudgingly, "but how exactly do you get past the 'highly opinionated' and, honestly, obstinate parts of our personalities?"

"Time... and mutual respect."

.O.O.O.

Christmas morning dawned much warmer than Astrid was used to, and she grumbled like she had the previous year about southwestern climates and the lack of all things chilly. Jeremy pointed out that she'd always hated the snow back in their childhood home, but nothing could dissuade her from sulking in her pessimism. Not even Jazz tried to rouse her Christmas spirit, having decided earlier to just let her angsty teenage hormones run their course before he even dreamed of interfering.

Really, though, as much as she complained about capris and t-shirts in December, she was really just nursing her wounds. Jazz and Jeremy had Christmas presents for each other that were stashed in Jazz's back seat for the trip to the Autobot base, where they would be celebrating the human holiday with the rest of their allies. Only Prime really knew where Bumblebee was, as he had vanished to spend the season with his own human 'family' that had moved off to attend college. And from what she'd heard, Ironhide was plotting to give Will some sort of Cybertronian mini-canon that he could shoot without the kickback breaking every bone in his body. Whether his shoulder would be in such great shape after several uses was inconsequential.

But there had been nothing from Mirage. He hadn't even wished her a merry Christmas. After Prime's lecture she'd gone and gotten all inspired to buy him a Christmas present. She'd nearly burst a brain cell trying to figure out what the heck an Autobot like Mirage could possibly want from a mud ball like Earth. In the end she'd settled on licence plate frames. Nothing at all flashy or colorful, like she probably would've chosen for her own car, but sleek, shiny and chrome- painted... and also rather pricey. The cost didn't bother her as much as she was afraid it would, though. Jenna's present had been cheap, and Jeremy's had been even cheaper. One wanted a single, paperback novel that she'd been drooling over in the college town bookstore; the other got yet another nineties action movie to add to his collection. So the frames hadn't been all that bad. Not all that good, but not bad enough to seriously harm the numbers in her savings account. In their defense, they really were very catchy-looking. Astrid had no doubt that they would just flow seamlessly into Mirage's design.

At first she'd been worried about whether or not transformers accessorized, but she'd been reassured from several _reliable_ sources that they _did_ like the interesting little flairs that humans used to enhance the appearance and personalities of their cars. Astrid had thought buying something like flashy rims or undercarriage lighting would have been better, but her poor little piggy bank was skin and bones as it was, and she really didn't want to totally kill the poor thing. She was in college after all, and the little critter needed a break.

It had been three days before _the_ day of the season that she'd gone and totally changed her mind. As she rested in her old bed that night, staring at the familiar ceiling, a realization had struck her. Mirage was not Sunstreaker, or Wheeljack, or Jazz. He was different. He would appreciate different things. While she had no doubt that the plate frames would be politely received, she was beginning to understand that such a gift would be correct... but meaningless. So she looked again... and this time, she found what she was looking for.

Now she was wondering whether or not she should've even bothered. The night before, Christmas Eve, when they'd been helping decorate the central hangar-room of the base, she'd quietly stolen the gift from where she'd left it and, once she was sure Mirage was out on patrol, carefully hidden it in his room. She didn't make it impossible or even unlikely to ever be found, but left it so he'd probably miss it that evening, but find it before they left to go back to school.

She hoped he'd like it, and not think her a foolish, dreaming child for giving him such a thing. With any luck he'd just miss it entirely.

At any rate, at least she wouldn't have to be there when he opened it, and she wouldn't have to live the humiliation of having so many witnesses to her disgrace.

And so she was still unhappy when she climbed out of Jazz's alternate form, but the symptoms had gone from irrational grouchiness to moody depression. She was sure Mirage would hate her present. That or - worse - laugh at it.

If only she could just sneak into his room and take it back before he found it...

The twins swept in on her then, shouting "Merry Christmas!" and trying their hardest to find out what she'd gotten each of them. All of her presents for the other Autobots were simple things, mostly homemade. Really, none of her gifts, even the replacement present for Mirage, had been expensive. Everyone receiving a gift from her knew her condition as a starving artist, and she doubted if they'd care if she got them something more expensive, anyway.

Present-opening was fabulous, even if Mirage _did_ stand there like an alien statue, leaning against the back wall for the entire event. Annabelle Lennox got the most presents, hands down. Even Astrid had convinced Jenna to help her knit a very small yellow blanket with the red Autobot symbol in the far corner for the little girl. Jenna had scoffed and teased about the funny face that her friend insisted on adding, but was placated by the story that it was an Air Force thing. Mrs. Lennox also received a good many presents, including a beautiful necklace that Wheeljack himself had created for her. Will only let her put it on once the scientist had _sworn_ that there was nothing even remotely explosive integrated in the metal or design. Naturally, the men had fewer presents but they were more expensive than nearly everyone else's. For example, the Lennoxs gave Jeremy a Wii, and he gave them a new camera to replace the one he'd accidentally run over. Epp's, who already _had_ a Wii, was the recipient of probably about half the games designed for that game system.

All of the Autobot's presents were very sweet and heartfelt. They gave generously, and the outpouring of love in present-form that was returned was enough to have Optimus's bright blue optics sparkling. Together, the Fenner siblings had pooled enough money to get Jazz a collection of CDs that contained the most varied collection of music to ever be put together in the same gift bag. The cutest thing given by anyone, though, had to be the rough, squiggly drawing that Annabelle had made for Ironhide. Every female in the room couldn't resist cooing at the scene, and if Ironhide could blush, Astrid was sure he would've turned scarlet.

Astrid's personal favorite of any of the presents given to anyone, though, had to be the beautiful, custom-made cell phone that was given to her as a combined gift from the Autobots. Optimus was very careful to phrase the words so that it would be clear that this was in part from Mirage, but avoided any phrases that might cause the high society mech to take offense. It was very clear what his leader wanted from him, and Prime seemed to want everyone else in the world to know it, too. But the phone really was lovely. Each of its buttons could be used individually to speed-dial a certain Autobot that she knew and loved, it was her favorite color, and - best of all - it came with absolutely no monthly service charges. There was also a small but easily accessible red button on one side that would send out a distress signal over the entire Autobot communications channel in case of an emergency. She mostly ignored this last feature, but stashed the knowledge in the back of her mind, just in case she might need it later. What really made it special, though, and marked her as an undeniable member of the team, was the red face engraved on the back and painted over with red enamel.

All too soon, though, present opening and Christmas dinner were over and done with. As the festivities wound down and the different families moved towards their guardians for the ride home, Astrid was forced to face the more unpleasant parts of her life once again. And she was forced by the last people on Earth she'd ever thought would turn against her.

She stared incredulously at Jazz's passenger side door handle, not quite able to believe what she'd just heard.

"You're joking, right?" she asked.

"Nope," Jazz said just a little too happily for Astrid's taste. "You and 'Rage need some bondin' time, and yo won't ever get it if I keep givin' ya lifts."

"So it's either ride with Mirage or walk yourself home," Jeremy put in.

Astrid gulped. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the GT idling on the other side of the hangar and wondered if walking might actually be the better option. But Jeremy was giving her a very pointed look and she could just _feel_ Jazz's optics boring into her.

With a haughty sniff she turned on her heel and marched across the room to where Mirage was waiting in his alternate form. She heard the telltale squeal of tires as Jazz peeled out of the base with her brother, but she was utterly determined to ignore them. If they wanted her to spend some quality time with her guardian - fine- but she'd make them regret their pushy tactics. The cold shoulder was an inborn talent of every woman ever to walk the earth.

Her trip across the hangar seemed to take an impossibly long time. It seemed like every eye in the room was watching her progress.

Mirage opened his door for her wordlessly and Astrid slipped in with matching quiet, unwilling to break the silence. It took all of a minute for her guardian to wheel himself quietly away from his fellow Autobots and onto the largely deserted highway. A few minutes after they were clear of the base, Astrid forced her eyes away from the view outside the window and looked around the interior of the car. Although everything was of the highest quality and style, no part of the vehicle held her attention. Instead, it was the familiar object resting between the two front seats that caught her eye.

"Oh," she said. "I see you found - got - your Christmas present."

"Yes," said Mirage. He hesitated. "It was a very generous gesture. Thank you."

Astrid blinked. "You're welcome," she said. Then it was her turn to hesitate. "Did... did you like it?"

For a minute the only noise was the thrumming of Mirage's engine, and Astrid wondered if she'd asked the wrong question. She probably wouldn't want to hear the answer anyway...

"I believe... yes. I do like it," he said at length, sounding as surprised by his answer as Astrid was. "It was... interesting. I found it very insightful to your species's emotions, and the way in which you perceive your _own_ emotions."

Unable to help herself, Astrid leaned back into the soft leather of her seat and let loose a peel of laugher. "I knew it! Somehow I knew it! Who else would ever've thought that a giant alien robot would get into _The Count of Monte Cristo_!"

"I really did enjoy it," Mirage said defensively. Curious, he added, "I take it that this... novel... is a favorite of your own?"

"Oh, yes," Astrid sighed. "Great book. Sort of thing that's interesting while still making you think. Most books today either waste too much paper preaching at you or are merely for fun and nothing more. No one can blend the two aspects like the old masters."

"You human's method of recording stories is... interesting," Mirage said. "But wouldn't it be more efficient to use one of your computers to document such information?"

"Efficient, yes," Astrid said, "but you just loose something when you don't read it from an actual book. There's something about the weight of it in your hands, the smell of the paper, the rustle of each page when you turn it... you just don't get that with a computer file."

"This is true," said Mirage. "However, perhaps... perhaps I would understand it better if I were... human."

"Hmmm. Probably."

They arrived home just a few minutes later. Although they didn't get any farther in their conversation that night, the first brick had been broken off from the wall.

A/N: Again, not entirely happy with this chapter, but it's just one of those necessary ones that are sorta tough to write, but necessary for the story... Feed the starving artists! Leave a review!

Replies to those without accounts:

'Ace: Thank you very much! Yeah, I had fun writing that bit. Hope you enjoyed seeing some of the reactions! Thanks again!

GodisGod!andIamnot...: Thank you! I am so glad you enjoyed it. I agree about the movie. That seems to be the universal response to it from everyone I've spoken with. Aw, you thought of the fic? I am so flattered... Hugo Weaving ROCKS! I knew after the first movie, but it sounded more like him this time, and I must confess to thinking 'Agent Smith!' sporadically throughout the film. Especially during the brain-probe scene. Hope to hear from you again soon!

Alihag: Aww *Blushmutterkicksatdirt*. Thank you very, very much! That really is flattering. Keep this up and my head's gonna swell like I have a head cold...Thanks again!


	13. Of Dye Jobs and Bad Days

Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. Heck, even if you did sue, I don't even have the action figures to give ya.

A/N: Hullo! Alright, so I am a very, very bad little author. I shouldn't make promises and then not keep them, although I must say, if everyone who favorited/added this story to their alert list (thank you all, by the by) had reviewed you would've knocked the 12 review bar on it's butt. I did have a reasonable excuse, though: and that is our church's major, yearly outreach kick-off thing was this week. We had something EVERYDAY from Wednesday on, and Tuesday night/Wednesday morning I saw Harry Potter at midnight with my cousin, so, yeah. Not the brightest thing I've ever done. But here's the update!!! Again, not to thrilled with this chapter, but they DO get better from here. This one is pretty much fluff and character development that is sorta necessary, but not all that engaging (in my opinion). NEXT CHAPTER IS BETTER! And yes, it is already written, and my mom is out of town this coming week so I can write LOTS more, so if I am so inspired I shall post early. No set number of reviews this time, though. Wow me, folks, I'll be bored.

Oh, yes. And I think the term 'aww' was in ninety percent of the reviews for last chapter. I nearly died laughing. You people rock my socks, even though its summer and I'm wearing sandals.

Chapter Thirteen: Of Dye Jobs and Bad Days

Mirage and Astrid saw more of each other in the next couple of weeks. They didn't monopolize each other's time, but they didn't clandestinely avoid each other, either. Over time, they were learning to appreciate things about the other that they hadn't taken the time to notice before.

Astrid had a clever mind and was well versed in the finer parts of Earth culture.

Mirage was an excellent literary debater and could really behave like a true gentleman when he wanted to.

Others around them began to notice, and each went around with a radiant grin like the thing had been their idea. The best part for Astrid was that Jazz was once again on speaking terms with anyone and everyone. The main 'anyone' on that list being Mirage. Now there were times in the rec room where she'd find herself sitting in front of her brother's guardian and her own, listening to the two of them converse and tease. If Jazz called Astrid short, Mirage called Jeremy rough and uncultured. To Astrid it was heaven. Never before had anyone volunteered to help her blatantly rip on her brother.

Unfortunately, the twins were still as active as they ever were, and they leaped at the chance to have some fun at Astrid's expense.

They cajoled her into taking a bet: who would fall asleep first on New Year's Eve- Annabelle or Epps? They didn't mention that they planned on dropping a few little pills into Epp's drink that afternoon. And, like the gullible fool she was, Astrid accepted. She also lost. When she came in the next morning with long blue stripes in her hair it was difficult to tell who was more shocked. Bluestreak looked like he'd fall over if a feather bumped into him; Epps (now recovered from the sleeping pills) forgot he was pouring coffee and scorched himself; Ratchet was decreasing the twins' estimated life spans with his glare alone, and, of course, Jeremy looked like he'd just seen Ironhide twirl into the room with a sparkly pink tutu.

Still, her brother was the first to recover, and he had no problem remembering how to use his tongue.

"What _happened_ to your _hair_?"

Astrid shrugged, calmly dipping a tea bag in her mug of hot water. "I lost a bet," she said.

Across the room, Will moaned. Jeremy sympathized with his colleague's sentiment and let his face drop into his hands, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "With who?" he asked.

"Sunny and 'Sides."

"I should've known," Jeremy said darkly. "Tell me that dye isn't permanent."

"I could... but I don't like to lie."

"At least tell me there isn't some sort of dress code at your school..."

"There isn't." Astrid laughed. "Honestly, where do you think I go? It's a university - a conservative university, but still a university. It's not like I enlisted in a nunnery or something."

"Well that's... good."

"Seriously, Jeremy," Astrid scoffed, leaning back in her seat and cautiously sipping at her tea. "You have a _tattoo_. What's wrong with me getting a little coloring, hmmm?"

"Nothing, Astrid, nothing," he said tiredly. He lifted himself up from his slouch, but his hand still wandered up to rub anxiously at his forehead in a dead giveaway of his true feelings. "You're just... I guess I didn't ever consider you branching out... quite... like... this."

At his words, a broad, cocky grin spread out over Astrid's face. "Well... _SURPRISE!_

"Besides," she added, "it could've been worse. I had to use a loophole in our agreement to keep the twins from dyeing _all_ of my hair blue."

Her new look continued to be a source of amusement for the mechs and humans on base for several days. The dents and scratches the twins received from the resident medic were also a hot topic of conversation. Wagers were already been made concerning what Ratchet, Jazz and Optimus would do when the girl started dating. There was also much debate concerning how much trouble the twins would get themselves into when Astrid started on the tricky path of romantic relationships. No one thought to speculate on Mirage's reaction.

All too soon, the holiday season was over, and it was time for Astrid to return to college with her guardian. The goodbyes were long, but nowhere near as emotional for Astrid as they had been the first time she'd left. Everyone was more at ease with her new living arrangements, seeing as how she'd passed all her first semester classes with flying colors, and no robots with red eyes had tried to take out the campus. High expectations were held by all for Astrid's performance in the next round of studying, and she looked forward to her future like she hadn't since her parents' accident.

For once the ride across the country in Mirage's front seat was actually enjoyable. Not just tolerable, but actually almost... fun. He'd managed to download several other books off the internet that Astrid had suggested and they discussed each one in depth for nearly half the drive. The other half was spent listening to music of a classical caliber - which Astrid also suggested - or riding in peaceable silence. Astrid was aware that so far she'd been sharing more facets of her world with Mirage than he'd been sharing of his, but she never broached the topic with him.

When, if, he was ever ready, he'd tell her what he wanted to.

.O.O.O.

It was very cold in Ohio. Astrid had almost forgotten that little piece of information during her sunny stay in Tranquility, but it was a fact that greeted her with harsh enthusiasm the minute Mirage's holoform opened the door for her.

"Wow," she gasped. "I'd forgotten that it still _snows_ in some parts of the world."

"Is this temperature dangerous for your species?" Mirage asked, a tinge of concern coloring his voice.

Astrid waved him off immediately. "Nah. I'm just a wussy."

Her guardian, who was growing more friendly by the day, handed her out like a gentleman from the shiny sports car and made sure she had her balance in the slick snow outside before releasing her hand. Not that it mattered a few seconds later.

Like the cold, it really should've come to no surprise to Astrid when she was tackled to the ground by a streak of energy wearing a long brown coat and a brilliant red scarf that acted like the tail of a kite. Her attacker squealed with glee and nuzzled in closer to her friend, sending them both deeper into the snow. Had she been knocked flat on any warmer or drier surface, Astrid would probably have just waited out her friend's expression of joy, but as things were, she had no intention of letting the snow soak through any deeper than her outermost layers.

"Jenna, honey, you know I love you, but this snow is really cold, and I don't want to deal with the puddle it'll leave in our dorm room."

"Right! My apologies!" Jenna said happily, peeling herself away from Astrid and offering her a hand up.

"Thanks," Astrid grunted as she was heaved to her feet.

"You're welcome," said Jenna. Her eyes tracked over to Mirage, then swung back to Astrid, and she gave her a meaningful waggle of the eyebrows.

Before the thought could send roots any deeper into Jenna's imagination, Astrid sternly said,"_No_, Jenna. I know what you're thinking, and it's not like that at all."

"What?" Jenna pouted. "The way he..." A hand clamped over her mouth and prevented any further comment on her part.

"Ah! Stop!" Astrid cried, slowly taking her hand away. "We'll discuss this in the room. But not _here_, ok?"

Jenna's eyes flew up to the pasty clouds and with a dramatic sigh she said, "I think I can survive that long..."

"Good," Astrid said, grabbing her by the arm and leading her off. "I'd hate to have to drag your dead body away somewhere and hide it."

"That's right," Jenna said. "Because the cause of death would be your fault. Keeping close friends in suspense about important facts for too long would definitely make you a murderer."

"Whatever, friend-tackler."

"Tight-lipped prude."

"Nosey conclusion-jumper."

"Wait, does that mean..."

"Shut-up for a _minute_ will you! The dorms aren't _that_ far away."

"That depends on who you ask."

.O.O.O.

"So," Jenna said, watching from her bed as Astrid towel-dried her hair, "you two aren't...?"

"It's not like that, no," said Astrid. "He's a friend of the family, like I said, a military friend of my brother's, and he just happens to live up here. Once his tour was over he came back to his old home, and he came with me Tranquility to visit his old soldier buddies. Satisfied?"

"Mostly," said Jenna, "except for the part about his originally coming from this giant cornfield." Astrid moved to protest, but Jenna beat her to the punch. "Really, Astrid, just take a _good_ look at him. He's not hard on the eyes, so it shouldn't be that difficult for you. What kind of guy who dresses that well, speaks that correctly and has hair that _awesome_ is raised in central Ohio? Southern, maybe, but around here? Not a chance...

"While we're on the subject of hair..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Astrid grumbled.

"Get a lot of slack from your brother?" Jenna grinned.

"Sorta."

"What happened?"

"I lost a bet."

Jenna fell off her bed, roaring with laughter. The pillow that hit her didn't come as too much of a surprise.

.O.O.O.

The snow did not stop falling for three days. By then the path from Astrid and Jenna's dorm to the buildings where their classes were held was a veritable slip-and-slide. The amount of students arriving dry (save for their boots) and still looking as neat and pressed by the time they reached class was a swiftly dwindling few. Astrid, however, had been one of the lucky ones so far. In fact, the first few days of the new semester were going even better than she'd anticipated. But all that changed on one frozen morning, when she had the audacity to get up before the sun and try to reach the library in time for some early studying.

On her way to the building, which was the closest one to her dormitory, she encountered a patch of ice that hadn't been there the day before.

One second she was fine, bright and cheery, walking in a straight line with her backpack on and her books held primly in the crook of her elbow. The next, she realized that her feet were in the air, the world was tilting so that she had a fabulous view of the morning sky, and her precious - and expensive - textbooks had flown out of her grasp. By the time the third moment arrived, she had come to the conclusion that her head, butt and back hurt terribly, and that she was going to have to either wear some very soggy clothes for the rest of the day, or she was going to have to skip early studying in order to change.

Her lower lip jutted out and she glared at the grey sky, which seemed to promise more snow, as her headache slowly came to roaring life. Eventually, she decided that there was no point lying there in the snow, so she pushed herself up, clutched a hand to the back of her head, gathered up her soggy books and trudged back to the dorm. A few extra hours of sleep weren't sounding so bad anymore.

When she arrived, though, she discovered that the girls in the next room were getting themselves pumped up for the morning with an energizing mix of rock music with just enough bass to unsettle the immediate neighbors. Needless to say, catching a little extra shut-eye was next to impossible. Jenna was up anyway by that time, and Astrid just threw the whole plan to the wind. At least she got to change, though, she reasoned.

She settled for swallowing a good dose of asprin and making herself a large thermos of strong, hot tea to take along to class. But of course, fate wasn't nice enough to just let it be at that.

As Astrid was walking along the slippery, snowy paths that led across campus, she came face to face with a fellow freshman... who happened to be running in the opposite direction. The two collided in an impressive display of flailing arms and skidding rears that got attention from every other soul unfortunate enough to be caught out on that nippy morning. There were a few hoots, several offers of help and a lot of shrugged shoulders. But Astrid ignored them all for, spilled out in a tragic brown stain that had melted through a good foot of snow before its heat had escaped - was her tea. The boy who'd ran into her apologized repeatedly, but was forced to go on or be late for class, leaving Astrid to stare at her ruined chai latte.

By the end of the morning she was ready to call it all quits and just flip burgers for the rest of her life. Not only was there the world's longest line for lunch, but when she finally had all her food on her tray, Astrid had found the one puddle of water on the floor left by snowy boots and taken her second fall of the day. Then she was not only tired, wet, and in pain, but covered in salad dressing and chicken noodle soup in front of pretty much the whole student body.

Suddenly she decided that she didn't want to even bother with her afternoon classes. She just wanted to go back to bed and pretend like it had all been a bad dream. Jenna had those two classes with her, anyway, and she'd probably be willing to let Astrid study off her notes. It wasn't even like they were particularly hard courses.

And so, tears leaking from her eyes, and an embarrassed flush illuminating her face like a big red Christmas light, Astrid cleaned up the mess she'd made and quickly ran out of the cafeteria.

Her eyes were so blurry that she could barely see at all, but her feet knew the route back to her dorm even better than her mind did, and they started to steer her in the right direction. But a loud honk from a car horn made her stop. Slowly, she turned around to blink pathetically out into the parking lot and strained her puffy eyes in vain to distinguish Mirage from the rest of the impressionist painting smeared out before her. There was a low purr from an engine, and suddenly the flashy GT was pulling up on the street next to the sidewalk. Mirage had his window down and his holoform leaning out for the sake of any concerned spectators who might be watching Astrid's progress from inside the nearby buildings, but it was the tenor of his engine that alerted Astrid to her guardian's true concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "You look... distressed."

"Yeah," Astrid sniffed, swiping at her leaking eyes with the back of her sleeve. "I'm ok... sort of."

"What has happened?"

"I fell - twice- and dropped all my stuff in the snow, and I embarrassed myself in front of the whole university, and I didn't get my tea this morning, and my head hurts, and my whole _body_ hurts, and... I guess I've just had a really bad day, Mirage," Astrid said, tacking an unconvincing snicker onto the end. "It's just been a really _rotten _day. That's all."

Mirage's speakers slowly came to life with calming classical music and his holoform climbed out to open the passenger side door for her.

"Let's go for a ride," he suggested. "You really do look like you could use it."

Astrid sniffed again, blinking furiously against her overactive tear ducts and waded around the car, slumping into the offered sanctuary. The heat was immediately turned full blast on the shivering teenager, and Mirage actually kept his holoform activated for once as he steered them off campus. They wound up in the rural countryside surrounding the tiny town built around the university, and Astrid watched with dazed interest as the speedometer slowly swung farther and farther right.

"... I think you're way past the speed limit," she said.

"I believe so," her guardian replied.

"Well... shouldn't you be slowing down?" Astrid asked.

A chuckle vibrated through the speakers and sent a pleasant shiver through Astrid's seat. "What's the point of possessing the capacity to become invisible if one never uses it?"

"Mirage," Astrid said in wonderment, "I think I really honestly like you right now."

Mirage's reply was to laugh and up the speed. "Let's see if we can't outrun your bad day, shall we?"

A/N: We broke the 100 review line! YAY!

Replies to Those Without Accounts:

Me;): Thanks for the review! Yes, they are cute, and their relationship will be anything but smooth. *Evil cackle of doom* Thanks again!

GodisGod!andIamnot: Thank you! I was worried about it being a little bit filler-ish. I think this one is more so, but it was necessary. Yay! You caught that! Hope to see more of your reviews!

Sammy J: Aww, gee *blush*. Thank you very much. Seeing the new movie definitely gave me a boost. This is a shorter chapter, but they get longer. Thank you again very much, and I hope to hear from you again!


	14. Of Icy Receptions and Booms in the Night

Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. Except in the case of my ocs. Touch those and it'll be my turn to sue. Just kidding. I can't afford a lawyer.

A/N: Um... wow? Awesome response from you guys! I am honored, flattered and very very happy! If I get another response like that, you can rest assured that there will be a RAPID update. I need to apologize for not getting around to replying to the reviews for chapter 12, but I figured you'd rather I updated than replied to old reviews so... yeah. Enjoy!

Warnings: Brief, somewhat intense violence

Chapter Fourteen: Of Icy Receptions and Booms in the Night

When Mirage finally returned Astrid to the campus they were both confronted with a peeved-looking Jenna waiting impatiently in the parking lot. Judging by the staccato beat of her tapping toe, Astrid guessed that they weren't likely to get off easy. Years of friendship had taught her the warning signs of Jenna's explosive temper. Her eyes zeroed in on Astrid the second she stepped out of the car, and they snapped to Mirage when his holoform closed the door a little harder than was probably needed. Astrid shot him a look, but he remained oblivious to her warning. By then he was only a mere yard away from his charge's roommate, however, and it would've been too late even if he had picked up on Astrid's cautioning.

Without warning, Jenna's finger was jabbed into Mirage's face, and the hologram actually reeled back a few steps in alarmed surprise.

"You," she growled. "Where have you taken my friend all afternoon? Why wasn't she in class? If I find out..."

"Cool it, Jen," said Astrid, coming to the rescue of her ill-prepared guardian. "He took me for a ride through the countryside. I was having a really, really bad day. That was all. So get your knickers out of the twist they're in and be nice to him, will you?"

Jenna's attention whipped back to Astrid and her lecture went into the defensive. "What? Can I not be a responsible roommate now? Am I not allowed to show concern for the well-being of my best friend and make sure..."

"Easy, girl," Astrid replied. Her palms rose up to shoulder height in the classic 'I surrender' pose and she offered the worried roomie the calmest smile she could manage. "Nothing happened, no one got hurt, and I'm gonna take you back to the room now so we can have some hot chocolate. Then I'll explain everything. Now come on, love, I'm freezin' to the sidewalk."

"Wait just a minute," Jenna ordered as she intercepted Astrid with one long arm. "Do you swear under solemn oath that you will tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing _but_ the truth?"

"Don't I always?"

"No," Jenna said. "If you did I wouldn't have to ask. But I want to know _everything_ about this little fiasco or so help me you won't be going anywhere with this Victorian snowball again until you're both old, ugly and _I'm_ lying on a hospital bed in a catatonic state. Savvy?"

"Yeah, savvy, can we go in now, _please_?"

Jenna eyed her critically one last time and then nodded sternly. "Alright. We'll go inside, but you are _so_ not off the hook yet, young lady. And you!" Mirage found himself once again at the end of a very angry finger, but he managed to hold his ground this time. "Don't even _dream_ that I'm finished with you yet, buddy. I'll be back, now or later, but I _will_ be back."

By that time Astrid was halfway to the dorms and called back wearily, "Enough with the theatrics, Jenna! Heat! Now! Put some hustle in that bustle!"

With one final glare at the poor, confused Autobot, Jenna swung around and marched quickly after her friend, managing to slide only once on a downhill icy patch.

.O.O.O.

In the end, Astrid got Jenna to back down from her state of red alert. Once she was calm, she took the opportunity to explain her horrible, no good, very bad day in careful detail. By the end she'd turned her best friend from a homicide-threatening protector to a dithering mother hen. She was buried beneath the soft security of no fewer than six blankets in under two minutes and had a variety of food and drink at her disposal. There was of course hot chocolate, along with tea, water, pop, diet pop, chips, carrots, chocolate, cookies, popcorn and Skittles.

When Jenna was worried, she went all out. The trick was to keep her from worrying about things that might turn on the 'I'm gonna get a shotgun and blow your head off' sort of worried.

They spent more time than was really needed to go over the notes Jenna had taken in the classes Astrid had skipped and by the time they were finished it wasn't technically nighttime anymore. Neither felt like getting ready for bed or even cleaning up the mess Jenna had made making her friend comfortable, so they just flopped down on Astrid's bed, which wasn't covered with notebooks, wrappers and bottles and dropped off into a deep and heavy sleep. A sonic boom couldn't have woken them up at that point, but a few hours later a very different sound roused Astrid.

For a minute she couldn't figure out what it was, blurry-minded with sleep as she was. It sounded like a cricket had gotten in their room. That wouldn't be too surprising, actually; one _had_ made it into Jenna's closet during their first month of college. But this was too regular for a cricket, and there was a funny feeling on her right hip...

Then it dawned on her. Her cell phone. Someone was trying to call her. In the middle... well, really late at night. Or really early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it. Her first thought was to just smash the stupid thing and yell at Jeremy or the twins -whichever had possessed the audacity to call her at such an hour- later. Still, though, nearly having the guts squashed out of you by an angry metal alien was enough to make one take a second look at suspicious calls, especially ones made at ungodly hours. Thus, it was her final decision to pull out the offending device and glare blearily at the caller id. It was Mirage.

She answered the phone.

There was a text waiting for her. It read

_**I have been attacked, am en route back to you. Get out. My long range communications have been sabotaged, and I am unable to call reinforcements. They are coming to your school. Call Optimus. Send for reinforcements. Get away from the university. Take as many with you as you can, but get out NOW.**_

By the end of the message, Astrid's breath was hitched up into pants, and for a precious few seconds she was completely frozen. _Oh, crap._ Then, with a jerk, she came back to herself, and her eyes danced rapidly around her dorm room, looking for potential weapons. The most threatening article in her possession, however, turned out to be her Swiss Army Knife, and she seriously doubted that the puny weapon would be a discouragement to any Decepticons that planned on making her a pancake. Fried or otherwise.

Her first action after that was to press the button on the side of her phone she'd hoped to never use. The screen blinked red, and she knew that the signal had been transmitted. Several Autobot names popped up over the flashing red background, and she was sorely tempted to just select one and listen to the comforting rumble of their voice until help arrived.

Her time was limited, however, and she began her quest to save her friends by smacking Jenna awake.

"Up! Get up! Jenna, _move_ it! We've gotta get out of here. Right now. C'mon, _get up!_"

"Jeez, woman, I'm awake already," she said. "What's your problem?"

"Look, I don't have time to explain, but we need to get ourselves, and everybody else, out of this dorm right now," Astrid said fervently, praying harder than she'd ever prayed for anything in her life that her friend would listen to her just this once.

For a minute Jenna just stared at her, and for a horrible moment Astrid was sure that she would be forced to flee by herself. If her best friend didn't believe her, who would? Then Jenna nodded, and Astrid released an auditory sigh of relief.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

"Wake up _everyone_," Astrid said. "Try and get to the other dorms if you can, but just try to get everyone out of here first. I... I think this building is in the greatest danger of being attacked."

"_Attacked?_"

"Jenna, I swear on my honor that I will explain later but right now every second we waste is another life lost," Astrid pleaded as she held the door open.

"Alright, but you so owe me for this."

"Believe me, I know."

They split up in the hall, running down opposite sides in an attempt to cover as much ground as possible. Unfortunately, everyone else was just as skeptical as Jenna had been, and they did not have the faith in Astrid that her roommate possessed. Several doors were slammed in the girls' faces, and even more were never opened in the first place. Astrid highly suspected that the ones they'd actually succeeded in waking forgot the encounter seconds later when their heads hit their pillows. So far, the evacuation was going nowhere fast.

Then an idea dawned on her.

She raced down to the end of the hall where a certain red box with a handle that had the words 'Pull in case of emergency' printed on it was located. As she curled her fingers around the bar she muttered under her breath, "May the fire marshals and mothers across America forgive me," and jerked the trigger down. Instantly, the halls were filled with screaming alarms, flashing strobes and - a few seconds later - confused and panicky students all trying to flee down the stairs at the same time in their nightwear. Jenna managed to surf through the throng to Astrid's side and gave her a very amused glare.

"I'm not sure whether to declare you brilliant or in need of some serious finger-wagging," she said. "Pulling the fire alarm. Honestly. What are you? Five?"

"Well it worked, didn't it," said Astrid.

"I have to concede that point. It most certainly _did_ work. _And_ I think it woke up about half of the rest of campus. But what do you say to you and me blowing this joint now? Wasn't there something earlier about eminent attack or something...?"

"_Yes._ I couldn't agree more," Astrid said. "Let's move."

Outside the dorm, the entire campus was in a state of pandemonium. People were running everywhere in various states of dress and undress, girls were screaming for no apparent reason and a few wise guys were catching it all on their camera phones. It took Astrid a moment to realize that not all of the frantic students were running in the right direction. Instead of hightailing it away from the building where the fire alarm was blaring like it was the Blitz, there were quite a few running the opposite way... away from the funny flashes of light and muted booms that could barely be discerned from the chaos surrounding the evacuated dorm.

Before she registered what she was doing, her fingers were around Jenna's arm and she was sprinting desperately for the tree line. If her estimates were right about how fast Decepticons moved and how far away those flashes looked, they would be on top of them in under a minute, maybe more if they were distracted by blowing up everything and everyone in sight. But her attempt to save the lives of her classmates was now a lost cause. If they were smart they'd run too. If they weren't... she hoped they had the record straight with God, because they probably wouldn't get another chance.

Jenna was shouting something impossible to hear in her ear, but Astrid didn't even try to pick out her words over the roar of the approaching devastation. Something heavy was shaking the ground beneath them, and the trees were still much too far away to offer any sort of protection. At least a few of the other students had gotten wise and were heading to safety. If back-up didn't come soon, though, it wouldn't matter all that much. Astrid suspected that 'cons had just as many scanners as the 'bots did, and it wouldn't be hard for them to root the squishies out from the trees if they were given enough time.

At least she could possibly buy them some time...

She whirled on Jenna and gave her a rough shove in a slightly different direction than the rest of the would-be survivors.

"Get out of here!" she yelled over the massive booms ripping through the air.

"What? And leave you? Are you crazy?" Jenna shouted.

"Jenna, please go!" Astrid said. "You can't help. You'll just get killed. Grab as many people as you can and find a secluded place with lots of escape routes to hide in."

Without giving her friend a chance to argue further, Astrid wheeled around and took off at an angle to her comrade's path. No need to focus attention in that direction... Maybe Jenna at least would get a few of their other friends together and successfully avoid the Decepticons until the Autobots came to save the day. It was all she could hope for at the moment.

As she ran, the tremors shaking the frozen ground beneath her grew stronger, and soon the screams of those around her alerted Astrid to the fact that the transformers were now in visual range. She knew it was a lost cause after that, so she spun around to at least see which one was going to get her before she became a red smear on the snow. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

Mirage had arrived. But so had the Decepticons, and there were way too many of them for the spy to take on by himself. It looked like the first attack had damaged him badly enough to knock out his invisibility powers and he was now flailing around in the grip of three tremendously huge 'cons as two others pummeled him. His Cybertronian groans and curses tore at Astrid as she stood there in the cold and dark, watching as his fuel and coolant lines leaked glowing fluids onto the hands of his captors. Her compassionate nature got the upper hand on her survival instincts for a minute and she rushed straight for the mechs that were undoubtedly hunting for her blood. As she ran, she crouched down and scooped up a large stone and hurled it straight at the nearest monster as she straightened.

It roared something - probably an explicative - and swivelled its head around to glare at the organic that dared to assault it. Then its optics grew a shade brighter.

"Hey, isn't that the organic we came to this rat hole to catch?" it asked.

Astrid froze.

Another one, possibly the biggest of them all, turned around and focused harsh red optics on the wide-eyed college student.

"Designation: Astrid Fenner - confirmed," it droned. "Mission: retrieve."

Astrid didn't hang around to hear if it said anything else, because at that moment Mirage strained his face up from the snow. Over the groaning gears that revealed the effort put into the words, he growled out, "_Run, Astrid_."

And she complied.

There were still other people trying to fly the scene around her, but now it was too late for some of them. One of the Decepticons tried to blow Astrid's path out from around her, hedging her in with craters, but his canon was not powerful enough to pull off the stunt, and Astrid was quick on her feet. Unfortunately, many of those running beside her were not so lucky. One boy whom she knew to be a senior majoring in biology became a lesson in anatomy as an energy burst collided with his fragile organic body. He managed to scream before his lungs were burned away. The next unfortunate victim ended in a spray of blood and body parts that showered Astrid as she dashed past.

A scream was building up inside of her as her fellows were blown to pieces in every direction and the ominous footsteps of several nearing Decepticons made the ground dance a jig beneath her feet. The only Autobot in that part of the country was currently being reduced to spare parts, her college campus was turning into an inferno around her and there was a homicidal maniac that was bigger than a trailer home coming in for the kill. As her emotions stirred themselves into a raging boil, her remaining logic was stuck repeating 'not good' over, and over, and over, and over...

Then, it suddenly seemed like it was the Fourth of July... even though it was the middle of January.

Bright explosions of light and color came soaring from the woods in front of her, and as the blasts sailed overhead Astrid had a moment to see the ruins of her campus in total clarity. Although the snow and the pale bodies were turned blue, green or yellow by the lights, there could be no mistaking the carnage surrounding her. Faces of dead colleagues and acquaintances stared up from the snow; wounded friends limped or crawled through the ice with wide, shell-shocked eyes. Painted over the light background of winter precipitation were artistic smears and splatters of a darker color, and no matter what effect the flying lights had on the scene, the blotches could be mistaken for nothing other than what they were.

As the first salvo of illumination vanished, Astrid became aware of the fact that the monster that had been chasing her was no longer shaking the ground. She turned, feeling like she was trapped in one of those dreams where she was stuck in slow motion while the rest of the world ran at regular speed. The Decepticon was standing over her, its red eyes trained on its target, but its hands were clutched to its chest, which smoked and fizzled. Then its ruby eyes sputtered out, and it began sinking towards the ground, swaying so that Astrid was sure she'd be crushed. Although she tried to move out of the falling body's path, the laws of gravity and gross tonage were against her and she knew she wasn't moving fast enough as her death came closer... and closer...

Just when she could see the tiny Cybertronian symbols etched in the Decepticon's armor, Astrid became aware of something hard and warm grabbing her. And then she was clear.

Her head swam for a few seconds as her brain caught up with the rest of the world, but the sight of a friendly pair of blue optics set in a familiar, visored face was all she needed to come back to herself.

"Jazz!"

"Fancy meetin' you here, little lady," he said happily, despite the battle that had just commenced around them. "Good thing ol' Jazz was here. Can't 'Rage keep ya out of trouble for a few months?"

"Mirage! Jazz, he was..."

"Don't ya worry none, little lady," Jazz said. "We've got Ironhide blowin' a hole through the other team to get him as we speak. What we need is to get _you_ out of here before..."

"_Autobot scum!_"

The world tilted alarmingly as one of the larger 'cons smashed into Astrid's rescuer, and she screamed as she felt the slick metal fingers lose their grip on her. It was all for nothing though, she discovered a second later as she dropped safely into the snow. Sick of playing the damsel in distress for the evening, she looked around to figure out where she'd gotten and where she was supposed to go.

It appeared that most of the Autobots had turned out for the fight, and Astrid decided to worry about how they'd gotten there so fast at a later date. At the moment there were still other students floundering about in harm's way, and now, with the Decepticons busy fighting somebody their own size, she had a chance to help.

A/N: So, in case you haven't figured it out, this fic is going to get a bit more serious/dark in the upcoming chapters. Hope you keep on reading it!

Replies to those without accounts:

Sammy J: Thank you very much! I like writing the scenes between those two, so I'm very glad you like reading them! Thank you and thank you again!

Alihag: Thank you oodles and boodles! What would the twins have had to do if they lost? Put daisy hubcaps on their wheels for a month. Thanks again!

GodisGod!andIamnot...: Thank you! Well, she isn't usually THAT clumsy, but when one's college campus is coated in ice it isn't hard. It's also a saying at school that EVERYONE has an accident involving their tray in the caffeteria at some point. But, yeah, now that you mention it, it does have a resemblence. Yikes! Thanks for the review, hope to hear from you again!

Sienna: Thank you very much! Yeah, getting along for ONCE... thanks again, and I hope to hear from you again soon!


	15. Of Battles and Refugees

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.

A/N: I am DEAD tired, due to many factors, including accidentally locking myself out of the house where I'm pet-sitting... in a thunder storm. Yikes. And five hours' sleep last night. Yeah, that might have something to do with it. So this is going to be short and sweet: I'll get back to the majority of reviews tomorrow. In the meantime: ENCOURAGE ME AND RESTART MY MUSE WITH MORE REVIEWS! You guys are really good at that. Especially since sixty of you have this on your alert list and over fifty have it as a favorite. Lastly: this is a LONG one.

Chapter Fifteen: Of Battles and Refugees

Astrid panted, feeling the cold air burn her lungs. No one had been given the opportunity to get ready for a long night outside in the dead of winter, but Astrid knew that she'd been luckier than some. She'd managed to get shoes and a coat on, although she _had_ passed the coat on earlier to a girl caught out in a spaghetti-strap sleeping gown. By that time, though, her body was creating enough heat that the only way she even knew it was cold was because her lungs were screaming bloody murder every time she tried to take a deep breath. Had she tried to do all this in slippers like some of her classmates, though, it might have been a different story.

She'd managed to herd most of the survivors together by then, and had sent them off to hide under the protection of one of the Autobots she was less familiar with. Wasn't his name Jolt? She couldn't remember. Now Jazz was trying very hard to get her to leave and get out of the danger zone, but there had been one face missing from the crowd Astrid had gathered, and she wasn't leaving until she was sure that face was still attached to the rest of its body.

Her search came to an end when she heard a high pitched shrieking that was screeching up to notes Astrid only _wished_ she could hit.

She tracked down the noise quickly and found Jenna pinned under the twisted hulk of some student's car. It was impossible to tell what make or model it had once been, but thankfully it wasn't on fire, and Jenna didn't appear to be very badly hurt. She was just stuck like a kid in the stair railing.

"GETMEOUTGETMEOUTGETME**OUT**!"

"Jenna? Jenna! Hold on, it's gonna be fine, just give me your hand, I can..."

"Astrid, get me outa here!" Jenna screamed. "It's crushing me! It just came out of the sky and..."

"Yeah, that's what you always say when you get stuck like this," said Astrid. "Now _give me your hand_."

Whimpering, Jenna obeyed. However, despite her compliance, she remained firmly wedged between part of the roof and the rear bumper. She was beginning to get frustrated, though, now that help was there and she was left in a little less danger but looking oh-so-stupid, and she wriggled like a possessed eel in her efforts to squeeze free.

"Guess you shouldn't have had that extra cookie at dinner, Jen," Astrid said, giggling in spite of herself. "Looks like the dreaded Freshman Fifteen have become a reality for you."

"Shuddup, ya smooth talking goody two-shoes," Jenna growled, "and get me out of this junk heap." She looked up, determined to berate her friend further if there was even a hint of a smirk left on her face, but the very ominous, red-eyed shadow looming behind her wiped all other thoughts out of her mind. "_Astrid, behind you!_"

Her friend whirled, gasped, worked her jaw silently, and then screamed "JAZZ!" louder than even Jenna had thought possible. A large black foot materialized out of the darkness and hovered over the two girls for an awful moment... before slowly coming to rest on the twisted heap of scrap metal imprisoning Jenna. As it started to press downward, Jenna and Astrid both started screaming again, one in pain, the other for help.

The sharp, warped metal was pushing down on her from above, and the frozen, unyielding ground seemed to be rising from below. Jenna's arm, which had been caught at an odd angle beneath her when she hit the dirt, snapped as the pressure increased, and she very nearly bawled like a baby as the bone gave way. As it was, she settled for keeping just a little bit of her dignity and screaming a _lot_ louder. Through the ringing growing in her ears she could hear Astrid continuing her verbal SOS.

"Jazz! Jazz, help! Knock it off, you big bully! You're _killing_ her!"

"That would be the idea," a strange, metallic voice grated from somewhere high above.

Astrid shrieked in fury, and called out in her rage, "Guess you don't have the nerve to fight off the big bad Autobots with the rest of your buddies, you flashy garbage disposal!" A very angry electronic rumble shook its way down through the car keeping Jenna in the snow, but Astrid was too angry to care at that moment. Besides, it was distracting the 'con from Jenna, wasn't it? "Bring it on! Your mamma was a snowblower!"

The rumble ascended a few octaves, and the foot was removed from the car. It smashed down a moment later only inches away from Astrid's hand, and she scrambled backwards in the snow with what Jenna strongly suspected was a muttered curse. In any other situation she would have scolded her friend soundly and possibly even suggested washing her mouth out with soap, but as things stood, it would probably be more than a little hypocritical.

"What was that, _maggot?_" the big, bad, car-squishing machine asked.

"Ah, shoot," Astrid muttered. "Hey, Jazz! Now would be a good time!" The Decepticon raised a fist over her. "Now would be a _really_ good time!" The fist started to swing in a downwards arch. "_Jazz!"_

Seconds before it came in contact with Astrid's easily-squashable person, another robotic hand intercepted it, jerking it back to an angle that caused the 'con to howl in pain.

"Nobody hurts the little lady," the new 'bot growled, literally tossing aside the Decepticon... which was now missing an arm.

Jazz hurled the torn limb after the retreating bad guy before he turned to where Astrid was practically hopping up and down with anxiety.

"The car, Jazz, the car!" she shouted. "Jenna's under the car!"

"Hold on, just a minute now," the Autobot said, crouching down next to her. "Let me take a look."

When his bright blue eyes came within two yards of Jenna she screamed again, and Jazz recoiled quickly, shaking his head in a effort to dispel the ringing. Astrid leapt to get the situation under control, grabbing Jenna's hand and muttering a very hurried explanation of how _this_ giant robot was different from the bad _attacking_ giant robots.

"It's ok, it's ok," she said. "Blue optics mean he's a good guy, alright? Alright. Red is bad. Those guys blowing everything up? Red eyes. Bad robots. But Jazz is a good guy, alright? Ok. Jazz? I think she's going into shock. We have to hurry."

"Alright, get ready to pull her out," said Jazz. He braced his hands under the mashed machine and hefted it up off of the college student as carefully as he could, giving her plenty of time to scream if a limb was somehow caught up inside.

Astrid heaved with all her might on the unbroken arm and Jenna kicked herself forward until they were clear of the wreckage.

"Ohmigosh, ohmigosh..."

"Yeah, Jazz, she is _definitely_ in shock," Astrid said. "We need to get her somewhere she can be treated..."

"I'll give you both a ride to where the others are being set up."

"Ratchet!" Astrid had never been so glad to see the search and rescue hummer in her life. "Thank you _so_ much."

The medic snorted. "If I'd had my way you would have been with the others from the moment we arrived. Now get in." He popped his passenger side door open, and, after helping Jenna clamber numbly up, she obeyed.

The battle was left behind quickly, and the dark woods and corn fields were the only scenery for several minutes. Then Ratchet pulled off onto a winding dirt road that led back to an old campsite, left long ago to be reclaimed by weeds and saplings by its former owners. Apparently central Ohio was not an ideal getaway for nature enthusiasts. Thankfully, several of the old cabins had survived and were now packed with terrified young men and women. A small battalion of tents had also been set up for the new refugees, and Astrid spotted several military personnel going around, demonstrating how to use the equipment. She strained to see Jeremy in the crowd, but it was impossible to tell with so little light.

Ratchet let the two girls out and quickly transformed on the spot. Jenna and several others backed away instinctively, but Astrid took her friend firmly by the arm and stepped forward with her, trying to forcibly break the ice.

"Jenna, this is Ratchet, he's a medic, and I think he should have a look at that arm," she said.

Jenna glanced down at her broken limb and then back to the towering machine before her. For a second she seemed to debate, but, like many before her, she seemed to decide that Ratchet would just make her do what he said if she didn't go along with it willingly. She nodded hesitantly, and the medic crouched down before her in as unthreatening a position as he could manage.

"I assure you, no harm will come to any of you, little one," he soothed. "Now, let's see what we can do about setting that bone."

.O.O.O.

Once Jenna had been taken care of, Astrid stepped outside the extremely large tent that Ratchet had designated as his impromptu med bay. It was cold out and she felt a great deal of sympathy for those still running barefoot through the woods. Would they even accept help, though, from beings that looked so similar the ones that had raided the university? She frumped and folded her arms across her chest. Bad luck seemed to follow her no matter where she went.

How many of her classmates, the people she ate, slept and partied with, were dead? She didn't want to think about it, but some morbid facet of her mind forced her to.

A mechanical groaning and a set of heavy footsteps alerted her to the presence of one of the Autobots and distracted her from her thoughts. She craned her head up to see who her visitor was.

"Hello, Jazz."

"Hello, little lady."

Astrid walked over and leaned against the chrome leg. It was ridiculously comforting, all things considered. "Where's my brother? Did you leave him back at the base?"

"Naw, ya know him better than that," said Jazz. "Besides, do ya really think I'd leave him by himself? That'd be stupid."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She paused. "Jazz? Is Mirage...?"

"Mirage'll be fine. Give him a few days and he'll be back on the front lines. He's already as ornery as usual."

"Well, that's good."

"He's been doing nothin' but whining for you, I hear," said Jazz. "Keeps sayin' somethin' about an idiot human..."

"Sounds like me, alright."

"Sure does," said a third voice.

Astrid whirled just in time to get a face-full of combat vest as she was clamped into a fierce hug. "Don't you ever, _ever_ scare me like that again."

When her brother finally let her go, she looked to his side and found Captain Lennox standing there. "How did you guys get here so fast?" she asked.

"There'd been some suspicious fragments of Decepticon communications that some of the Autobot techies were able to catch by tracing back the hack they made earlier," said Lennox, "but we didn't know for sure that anything was going down until Jeremy tried to call you a few hours back and got nothing but a dead line. We figured we were better off safe than sorry and geared up. When the Autobots realized that Mirage hadn't checked in we were already on our way. Your SOS got through, so we think your phone might have been rigged to reject incoming calls but allow outgoing."

"Why would my phone be rigged like that?" said Astrid.

"We still don't know for sure, but it seems most likely that it was a way to cut you off without arousing too much suspicion on your side."

"So this was planned in advance, huh? Not a spur of the moment invasion?"

"Definitely planned in advance, not too well, but still planned."

While Jeremy had released her from the death-hug, he still had one arm curled around her shoulders. At the mention of Astrid's sabotaged phone the grip grew tighter.

"We though that the 'cons might have already gotten to you," said Jeremy.

"They probably would have, if it hadn't been for Mirage," Astrid said.

"Remind me to give him a really good Christmas present next year," said Jeremy.

"Can I see him now?" Astrid asked.

"I think you'd better wait," said Lennox. "Ratchet is with him now, and you know how he gets when you mess with his patients."

"Right." Astrid rubbed at a developing bruise on her arm. "I think I've been roughed up enough for one night."

"Sorry we couldn't get here any sooner," said Jazz. All of the men suddenly looked deflated.

Astrid caught on in an instant. "No. Oh, no you don't. You three are not allowed to guilt trip yourselves because of anything the friggin' 'cons did."

"It's our manly nature, sis," Jeremy said, giving her a squeeze. "Get used to it."

.O.O.O.

Having given Jenna enough time to acclimate - sorta - to her new situation, the fact that her arm was broken, and the idea that not only were there aliens in the universe, but they were very large, made of metal, and not all nice, Astrid dared to approach the wounded roommate again.

Her roommate was resting on a cot, her arm wrapped in a cast and draped across her chest. The look she leveled at her nearly made Astrid's hair curl. How long had it been since she'd gotten a glare like that from Jenna? Not since - well - a while. Astrid eased into the chair beside the bed very, very carefully.

"So," said Jenna. "First, you put blue streaks in your hair because of some stupid bet you made over Christmas. Then, you start associating with the Victorian snowball. Now, you're friends with giant. Alien. Robots. And I'm betting Snowball is one of them. Anything else you wanna get off your chest while you're on a roll, 'Rid?"

"Umm... I was the one who glued your locker shut in fifth grade?"

"Already knew that one."

"Oh. Well, there's nothing then."

Jenna groaned and bounced her head back against the flat pillow. "Usually, I find discovering new races really interesting and all, but this really stinks."

"Yeah." Astrid shifted in her chair. "Sorry about your arm. Maybe you'll duck next time a car comes flying at you?"

"I _did_ duck."

"Oh."

For minute they sat in silence, nervous and uncomfortable on Astrid's part and sulky on Jenna's.

"My brother will probably stop by at some point to check on you, if he as time," Astrid said. "Old acquaintances and all..."

"Wait a second!" Jenna said, sitting up. "Your brother's involved in this?"

"Yeah. He works with the big guys. It's his fault _I'm_ involved."

Jenna chucked the flat pillow at Astrid's head and scored a direct hit.

"Hey! What was that..."

"YOU SAID THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE!"

.O.O.O.

Despite the Autobot's best efforts to be friendly, the frighted and traumatized young humans were still terrified of them. So, in order to retain control of the situation, the Autobots pulled back and set up their own base of operations a mile away. They were far enough away to be out of mind, sight and hearing, but close enough to come quickly if needed. And so it was that Astrid had a rather long walk to the Autobot base, where Mirage was being treated.

Her brother had wanted to super glue himself to her side but he had other duties to attend to, and Lennox was there to remind him of them. Once the boys had trouped off with Jazz to patrol the area and seek out survivors, Astrid had turned her attentions first to Jenna - which had gone oh-so-well - and secondly to her wounded protector. When everything else had been seen to, she found herself battling the urge to defy the testy medic and risk a visit to Mirage.

Her sane side said no, but the other (and larger) portion of her reason ordered her to go. He'd almost given his life for her after all, couldn't she at least risk Ratchet's wrath by a short visit?

The walk was long, and her feet hurt by the end of it. Her heavy breaths came out in huffs that wafted up in white clouds, and her exposed skin turned lobster red. With every step she took she combated her own uncertainty. Over the months they'd spent together she and Mirage had never exactly seen eye to eye - either literally or figuratively - and now she began to wish she'd thought twice before heading out at such a late hour to check in on him.

She hovered for a while outside the entrance to the mechs' med bay, once she'd finally reached it, and deliberated on whether it might actually be wiser to wait until the morning. She knew she was being stupid, but she couldn't help it. After all she'd been through that evening she figured that she deserved a little indecision. Her mind, however, was made up for her.

"I can pick you up on my sensors, you know. You might as well come it."

The voice was not happy, and it was not especially friendly, but Astrid carefully slipped inside anyway and peered nervously at her incapacitated guardian. He was laid out on a long slab - or a berth - with his optics somewhat dimmer than usual and some obvious patching across his chasis and right arm. Astrid winced involuntarily.

"Mirage, I -"

"Whatever you have to say, human, it had better wait until another time," said Mirage. "I am alive if not well, as you can so clearly see, and I will be able to return to my duties in another week or so. In the meantime I have been informed that you will be under the guardianship of Jazz along with your brother. Hopefully you'll listen to his instructions better than you have mine."

"_What?_"

"You do not listen well to orders."

"I'm not a soldier, Mirage, and since when have you ever had to give me _orders?_"

"Since tonight," Mirage snapped, "since the Decepticons attacked and you threw stones at them when I was doing everything in my power to _distract them from you_. How long did you wait before you even got out of that building? Did you knock on every door before you obeyed me?"

"I had to help the others! I couldn't just let them be blown up in their beds!"

"This is your _life_ we are discussing, human!"

"It was their lives, too!"

"_I do not CARE!_" Mirage's gears whirred and clicked like he'd transformed himself into a bomb, and it took him a few minutes to regain control of himself. At last he said, "You are the one I am assigned to protect, Astrid, not them."

Astrid had never been the best person alive. She forgot to donate to at least one major charity when she got her tax returns, she _enjoyed_ tormenting her friends and family, and she occasionally forgot to recycle. These things, however, did not make her heartless, as she now suspected Mirage of being. "I beg your pardon?"

Mirage seemed to sense that he'd said something wrong, but he was too impassioned by his own frustrations to care, and he plowed on with his criticism of Astrid's actions. "I said to grab as many as you could, but I didn't think that meant you would have to stop at every door and chase even the most inebriated of the students from their beds. You could have died, Astrid. You very nearly did. And then I hear you went _back_ once reinforcements arrived..."

"I did," said Astrid.

"That was foolish."

"It was human."

"My point exactly."

She was sure that if she stuck around Mirage would only make her angrier, so she'd left while she was ahead, giving him a curt "Good night" and walking off long before the conversation ought to have ended. So much for good intentions.

Then Ratchet found her.

As she stormed through the black woods a bright yellow rescue hummer pulled up beside her and popped open a door. "Get in," he said.

Being too angry and too afraid of Ratchet to refuse, she'd climbed aboard and resisted closing the door on her own for fear of slamming it. Jazz had yelped the last time she'd slammed his door after a temper tantrum, and she still felt guilty months and months later. She also suspected that Ratchet would do more than yelp.

As they drove through the dark trees, it became clear that Ratchet intended to give her more than just a ride back to the camp.

"Mirage can be... difficult," he said.

Astrid snorted. "You're telling me."

"Please at least try to see things as he does, Astrid. He only just started opening up to you, and he very nearly lost you tonight. That scares him more than he would ever admit and this is the only way he can react. He has to place the blame somewhere, and I'm afraid you were simply the closest target. The only other being he has seen since the battle were other mechs and myself. When Ironhide and Wheeljack brought him in he was cursing up a storm, insisting that this could all have been avoided if we'd gotten here sooner..."

"There still would have been a battle."

"I know. So does he. As the night wears on, however, he is turning to less and less likely excuses for what he views as a failure in his guardianship."

Astrid was so startled that she looked away from the window and gawked at the dashboard. "He didn't fail in his guardianship!"

"I know that, you know that and probably every other mech alive knows that, but Mirage holds himself to an extremely high standard, and is sometimes very hard on himself."

"Sometimes?"

The seatbelt gave Astrid a quick squeeze and then relaxed. "Do you think you can forgive him? He's beginning to need you, and judging by your reaction I think you're beginning to need him."

Unwilling to come off of her anger-induced high horse, Astrid started chewing her lip. She honestly wasn't sure whether or not she was willing to give a definite answer yet to that question. "Maybe," she said.

"That is all I ask," Ratchet said.

A button she didn't know lit up on Ratchet's dashboard and the Hummer came to an abrupt stop. Astrid was pressed up against her seatbelt, and even after they'd stopped she could feel it growing tighter.

"Ratchet," she said. "Ratchet, I love getting hugs, but I like breathing more." There was no reply, and the seatbelt did not ease up. "Ratchet?"

"Decepticons," said the medic. "They are between us and the main camp. No doubt they are looking for strays."

"Like us."

"Yes."

"Have you called for backup?"

"I cannot. The slaggers are jamming everything. Their communications officer must be with them. His skill in such areas is astonishing."

Astrid leaned back and tried to slow her breathing, ridiculously afraid that the 'cons would hear her through Ratchet's thick metal frame. "Can we go back the way we came?"

"I believe so, just so long as we are quiet."

The vehicle began to creep back in reverse. Astrid wondered if it was even possible for a hummer to move quietly through the woods.

She didn't have long to wonder.

A harsh light tore through the night, illuminating the scene and catching Ratchet as he tried to sneak through the woods. A bright yellow Hummer wasn't the best equipped vehicle for stealth missions in a dark forest as it was, the light, however, made him painfully obvious to anyone who cared to look. The sounds of other motors were all around them and Ratchet shot backwards so fast that Astrid thought her head was going to go through the windshield. Suddenly she was very happy that Ratchet had tightened the seatbelt. They flew over the bumpy forest floor. Inside, Astrid was bounced around terribly, each branch or hole they found jarring her. As they crashed through the underbrush, Astrid caught glimpses through the trees of other vehicles racing alongside them, and she did not believe that they were Autobots. The spotlight stayed with them through it all, not to be thrown off by Ratchet's evasive maneuvers.

Then they burst into a clear space. While their pursuers were still caught in the trees, Ratchet spun and jettisoned his passenger. He transformed to stand in a defensive position between girl and Decepticons even as Astrid backpedaled rapidly towards the nearest trees.

"Astrid, get moving!" said Ratchet. "Alert the others! Get help!"

Astrid did not need to be told twice. Before the first _clang_ came from the fight behind her, she was out of sight.

Sadly, out of sight did not necessarily mean out of mind for the Decepticons.

"Ravage," a voice behind her said, "mission: retrieve."

An unholy - and definitely inorganic - yowl came from behind her, and Ratchet let out an incoherent roar of rage, the likes of which Astrid had never heard before. She put on as much speed as she could muster, but she could still hear the yowling thing gaining rapidly on her. With a flying leap, the mech landed in front of her, and Astrid skidded to a stop and the vaguely feline Decepticon twitched its armored tail. By that point the sounds of battle were faint behind her, and Astrid could see and hear the first signs of rescue up ahead. Ratchet's fight has apparently drawn the needed attention. If it weren't for the 'Con blocking her way, Astrid knew that she might have already been safe at that moment.

Astrid tried shifting towards the right, but the mech mirrored her actions and growled. It took one step forward, then another, and Astrid decided she wasn't going to wait for it to take a third. By that time the fight or flight instinct innately possessed by all organics had taken hold, and she lunged blindly to the left. She only made it a few meters, however, before a hard, heavy weight crashed into her back and sent her sprawling. Before she had the chance to recover her lost breath, a pair of metal claws dug into her shoulders. The leafy ground muffled her screams, but when the 'Con's teeth sank through the back of her shirt and got a bit of skin in the bargain her face was pulled up and her shout became audible.

It dragged her back to the clearing like that - with its teeth in the back of her neck like a cub, and it did not immediately release her once they'd reached the other mechs. A large mech - one Astrid recognized from the campus - turned to acknowledge the panther-like 'Con. Then it - and Astrid - looked to where Ratchet was still fighting, even though by now he was pinned to the ground with three Decepticons holding him down.

"Autobot: desist, or the human will be terminated," the leader mech said.

Ratchet struggled to get his face up to see Astrid. Once it was sure Ratchet was watching, the panther mech finally dropped Astrid, but instead of letting her wiggle away to freedom it sank its claws into her back again. When Astrid yelped, so did Ratchet, but he stilled obediently.

"Please stop," he said. "I will stop."

The monotone-voiced-leader nodded and the claws - slowly - retracted. Astrid sighed and let her face fall back to earth. It didn't stay there long. The leader plucked her from the ground and held her steadily in front of him as Ratchet was secured. The medic twitched irritably as his surgical saws were offlined and the leader gave Astrid a brief squeeze.

"Warning repeated," he said, "desist or the human will be terminated."

Something deep in Astrid's gut clenched, and for a moment she was sure that she was going to be sick. Then a strange pulse came through the hand holding her and a humming filled her ears, soothing her into instant limpness. In another moment she was out cold.

A/N: The firing range has now been opened, send something my way, folks!

Replies to those without accounts:

Sammy J: Oh, wow, thanks! That is a big ol' load of compliments! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter as well. Hope to hear from you again!

Sienna: Thanks for your review! Well, good news and bad news. There were some fluffy bits, but, as you can see, they are coming to an end for a little while. Hope to hear from you again!

BrokenShiftKey: Thank you very, very much! That means a lot. Yes, Ohio is a very underappreciated state, and I've had great fun putting it in here. Hope to hear from you again!

Unknown J: Thank you very much for your review! Here's a fresh update for you, and it's even in your timescale!


	16. Of Patients and Captives

Disclaimer: Me no own, you know sue.

A/N: A fresh new update for you, folks! Keep the reviews comin'! They do a world of good! Especially when the dogs I'm watching leave me nice, smelly presents in the early morning. Not too happy with this chapter, but it works alright. The next chapter is better, I think ;).

Warnings: Implied torture.

Chapter Sixteen: Of Patients and Captives

It had never been said that Jenna was particularly unobservant. Neither had it been said that she was especially stupid. So why everyone was treating her like she had suddenly become so was a mystery to her. The military folks bustled around, obviously torn between caring for the mass of new refugees and whatever action was going on in the woods.

They'd all heard the booms. They'd all seen the pretty lights. Something was up. None of the military personnel seemed too chatty, though.

When Jenna saw Jeremy Fenner pass by the entrance to her tent, she spied an opportunity to enter the loop.

"Jeremy!"

He whirled at his name, looking hopeful, but at the sight of the caller he seemed to slump.

"Can I help you, Jenna? I'm kinda busy right now."

"Yes, you can actually," Jenna said, folding her hands in her lap very neatly. "You can tell me what in the blue blazes is going on out there."

"Sorry, no can do," said Jeremy.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me! I was just introduced to another sentient _race_ from _outer space_ that works on _motor oil_ at the business end of a friggin' _canon_. _What_ may I ask is so _important_ that I can't know?" Jeremy stared at her with a blank frown and Jenna ground her teeth. Now that she thought about it, he never had been the talkative type. "_FINE_. I'll just ask Astrid."

"No you won't."

"Oh, I won't, won't I? And why not?"

"_Because no one can find her!_"

Jenna blinked.

Jeremy Fenner had been her neighbor for fifteen years, and while she didn't know him as well as she knew his sister, she could tell when he was joking. That face was not a joking face.

She gulped. A tremor shook itself up her spine and she finally managed to ask, "What do you mean? Is she... missing?"

"YES! Now please shut-up so I can go back to finding her!" Jeremy stomped off to rejoin the search parties and left Jenna shaking on her cot.

Astrid had just saved her life. She was the best roommate the in the world, and the brat still hadn't worn the princess dress yet. She wasn't allowed to be missing. And she certainly wasn't allowed to die. Jenna would kick her butt if she did.

.O.O.O.

Astrid woke to find herself in what she first thought was a pet carrier. The floor and ceiling were solid metal, but the walls had large holes poked in them - easily large enough to stick her arm through - and looked to be the work of large, metal fingers. The door was made of an old chain-link fence, and it was the first part of the prison that Astrid tested for weaknesses. There were none. The walls, ceiling and floor were also escape-proof. Even the holes were too small to let out anything past her shoulder. She nearly popped a joint trying to squeeze more through.

The back of her neck was a little sore, and so were her shoulder blades, but she'd had much worse, and they didn't do much to distract her from her mission. The approach of heavy footsteps and then the leering red optics that loomed down at her through the cage door were another story.

"Oh no, not _you_ again!"

Barricade rumbled something in Cybertronian and picked up the cage so that Astrid was at eye - or rather optic - level.

"Yes, _me_ again, squishy. Ready to die this time?"

He all but ripped the door off its hinges and thrust his long, clawed digits into the box after the girl. Dodging, ducking and weaving, Astrid managed to evade him for a few minutes, but the 'Con quickly wearied of the game and pulled his hand back. Then the box tilted and Astrid lunged to grab onto one of the holes. Her meager resistance did not impress Barricade. He plucked her from her perch very easily when there was no ground for her to run on, and once he had her in his grip he made sure to give her a very hard squeeze.

"Don't test me," he said.

Astrid didn't answer.

As the big mech left the room where her cage was kept, she began trying to piece together a mental map of the place. Anything, even the smallest detail, might help her escape... if Barricade ever set her down... alive. It didn't take them long to get to wherever they were going, though: just out one door, down a hallway, past a couple mech-sized doors, and into the third room on the right. It took Astrid all of three seconds to figure out that this must be either the control or communications room, or both. Besides the five other mechs present - three of which were apparently engaged with the various alien computers - there was a massive blank screen that took up almost all of one wall. The Decepticon leader with the monotone voice was standing in front of the screen and the nasty, feline thing from the night before was pacing and twitching at his feet. When Barricade approached, the cat-bot glared up at Astrid with its one eye and snarled. The leader didn't even spare it a glance, but held his hand out to Barricade wordlessly. Astrid was dropped from Barricade's harsh grip into that of his boss, and the moment he had her, the leader turned to face the screen, which flickered to life almost instantly with a huge image of Optimus Prime's face.

As much as she loved Optimus, Astrid felt her stomach tank at the sight of his face. She was a hostage, and hostages never did well in hostile negotiations, which this clearly was.

"Soundwave presenting demands of Decepticons," the leader rumbled. "The medic and human companion to be exchanged for remaining Allspark fragment."

For a long moment Optimus remained silent, his eyes darting briefly to the side, and Astrid guessed that the Prime was not actually alone on the other end of the transmission. For the sake of her own skin she hoped he'd say yes. For the sake of her life he hoped he said no.

"We cannot meet these demands," Prime said slowly, "but perhaps with further negotiation we can..."

"No negotiation," said Soundwave, the leader 'Con. "Decepticon demands will be met, or the hostages will be damaged."

"If we..."

"A demonstration is necessary." Astrid was set surprisingly gently on the nearest console and Soundwave took a step back. "Ravage: proceed."

Astrid spun around as the feline Decepticon - Ravage - leapt up onto the console behind her. Her eyes doubled in size and she took a step backwards before she even realized what she was doing. The thing looked like it was grinning at her, and it scratched its long claws playfully over the metal below, leaving twin sets of gauges in the otherwise smooth surface.

Try as she may, she couldn't keep the trembling out of her balled-up fists, and her clenched teeth chattered. At least she kept herself from screaming for the first few swipes.

.O.O.O.

Mirage thrashed against the restraints keeping him bound to the medical berth. "What do you slagging mean 'she's missing'?" he bellowed.

"Exactly that," said Jazz. "No one knows where she's gotten to. And with the attack out in the forest 'n' all, everyone's startin' to fear the worst. The last one to see her was that roommate of hers, and that was hours ago..."

Mirage stilled. "I think I've seen her... since then," he said.

"Really?" Jazz immediately perked up. "When? Did she come to visit ya? How long ago was that, Mirage? Do ya know where she went from here?"

"She came to see me approximately three hours ago," Mirage said. "We... had a falling out. She was angry when she left. She didn't say where she was going."

The light drained from Jazz's optics. "Slag."

Just then the twins came stumbling in, looking like they were fresh from a war zone - which in all likelihood they were. Sunstreaker looked ready to blow something up or take something out... but Sideswipe did not. The red mech was almost shaking and his optics had that wide, horrified look to them that comes from shock. Jazz was in a battle stance before they'd even reached Mirage's berth.

"Stand down, Jazz," Sideswipe said, taking a seat on the ground by the wall. "Prime just got a transmission is all."

"'Is all'?" Sunstreaker barked.

"They have Ratchet and Astrid," said Sides.

Jazz swore. "Looks like Prowl was right - again," he said. "There was a reason nobody could find her." Mirage thought that his intake valves had frozen shut, and when he finally got them to work again the air came in stuttering gasps.

"The 'Cons are demanding the Allspark fragment Prime has in exchange for the hostages," Sides continued. "Soundwave is leading them. When Prime said no..."

"The slagger sicced Ravage on Astrid," said Sunstreaker.

"Primus," Jazz whispered.

Sides had his face plates buried in his hands, like he could still see it all. "She's just a sparkling. She was screaming, and her brother was having a fit in the middle of the transmission. Lennox had to wrestle him out."

Mirage finally found the courage to ask the question weighing the heaviest on his and Jazz's processors: "Is she...?"

"She's still functioning," Sunstreaker snarled. "But Ravage won't be by the time I'm through with him."

"Soundwave stopped him before he permanently damaged her," said Sides. "But, Jazz, he said this was only a demonstration, and if Prime keeps saying no... A little organic can't take that kind of punishment for very long."

Mirage felt his energon lines run cold and his processor was stuck on a single piece of data: the last thing he'd said to her was an insult. As the other mechs continued to discuss the situation, Mirage turned his face away and stared at the wall.

.O.O.O.

It had been a total of one hour and seventeen minutes by human standards since Ratchet had come back online. It had been a total of one hour and sixteen point five minutes since he'd begun demanding to see his fellow prisoner. And he was still going.

Unfortunately, he was sure that he would've gotten more of a response out of Soudwave than from the sparkless camera watching him.

"Where is Astrid?" he bellowed. "I _demand_ to see her! Do you have any idea how fragile organics are?"

The red light on the camera continued blinking, unfazed.

"What good is a dead hostage?"

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

"Either bring Astrid to me or let me go to her, you sparkless slaggers!"

Blink. Blink. Blink.

More than anything else in the world, Ratchet wished for his biggest, heaviest wrench at that moment.

Just as he was priming his vocal processor for another round of abuse, the flat grey door opened, and Barricade stepped in... carrying Astrid.

"It's about Primus-forsaken time! Give her to me," Ratchet ordered, extending his bound hands.

Barricade eyed him coolly. With a snort, he held out his hand and unceremoniously dropped his cargo, forcing Ratchet to dive in order to catch her. Astrid yelped when her bloody side made contact with the medic's fingers, and she curled up on herself protectively. After a few moments of staring at the clawed, red-stained girl in his palms, Ratchet's cooling fans were forced to work overtime as his temper flared.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"

But Barricade was already gone, the door once again locked, and the camera continued blinking down at him. Immediately, Ratchet's attention shifted from the closed door to the huddled patient in his hands. He hummed and clicked, letting the vibrations carry all the way down through his fingers. After a few minutes of the soothing massage, Ratchet managed to coax Astrid into uncurling. When he saw the damage he barely restrained himself from cursing loudly and undoing all of his hard work.

Only two sets of claw marks looked like they might be serious, and a deep bite on her upper arm definitely needed stitches. The rest of the gashes were hardly more than mild abrasions: painful but not lethal. But their purpose was obvious - they had been designed to cause extreme pain. They had tortured her, probably to pressure Prime into meeting their demands - whatever those might be.

"Ratchet."

"Yes, little one, it's me," he said.

Astrid shivered in his palm, and Ratchet wished to Primus that the 'Cons had left even one blanket in his storage compartments. "It hurts." Again she shivered. "And it's cold." She snuggled into his palm. "Mmmm, but you're warm."

Ratchet watched in surprise as she pressed herself closer to his metal plating, and his thoughts began to shift from warrior to medic.

"Yes," he mused. "I am warm, aren't I?"

Astrid did not respond, but he hadn't really expected her to. Poor sparkling. Those gashes looked like Ravage's work. It was a lucky thing that they'd stopped bleeding on their own, because he had nothing to bid a wound with. There were no bandages, disinfectant or even water in the small cell. It would be a miracle if the girl escaped infection. But at least he could do something about the cold.

Carefully, Ratchet shifted to a position on his back - not an easy feat to accomplish with bound hands and feet while balancing an organic in one's palm. Once he'd arranged himself he set Astrid on his chest plate, directly over his spark. Humans, he understood, huddled together for both warmth and comfort in extreme environments and dangerous situations. It was the most he could do to offer his own body heat to the trembling organic, and it was only logical to place her where the most heat was generated.

From her new vantage point, Astrid could look straight into Ratchet's face and vice versa, and he watched her intently as she sought a comfortable position. When she settled her hands on his chasis to help balance herself, Ratchet flinched. Slag, her hands were cold.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked.

"No, no, dear, you just need to warmed up a little is all." He frowned at the results of his latest scan. "Your body temperature is several degrees below normal."

"Well," Astrid said, "I guess that's to be expected. I don't even have a jacket, and there's snow outside."

By way of answer, Ratchet raised a hand and draped it over top of the girl, like a tent and an insulating blanket in one. "Just relax, Astrid. You'll be warm again in no time."

"Ratchet," Astrid mumbled, already beginning to fade with the effects of the gentle heat. "They want the Allspark shard. I was there when they commed Optimus."

Ratchet's hand stiffened, nearly clenched, but he relaxed it quickly, hopefully before the girl noticed. "And what was his response?"

But Astrid was already asleep. Ratchet sighed. It didn't matter, really. He could already guess what Prime's answer had been.

And he could guess what repercussions were in store for the two of them.

A/N: So, should I be grabbing a shield?

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GodisGod!Iamnot: Thank you for your reviews! It's AWESOME that you reviewed even when you know I couldn't reply (since I'd already posted the next chapter). Here's your new chapter! There might be another one out by the end of week if I get enough reviews! Thanks again!

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	17. Of Blame and Barricade

Disclaimer: Yeah... not mine.

A/N: So, not entirely pleased with the pacing of this chapter, and I know very little about robo-torture so - yeah. Let me know what you guys think!

Warnings: Torture/angst

Chapter Seventeen: Of Blame and Barricade

Optimus glanced up in surprise as his finest spy and saboteur entered the make shift 'briefing room'. Most of his mechs were out scouring the woods on search missions or patrolling the perimeter, and he hadn't deemed it necessary to waste a soldier by placing them at the entrance to this particular area. Perhaps that had been an unwise decision.

"Mirage," he said. "I am glad to see you on your feet. I was unaware that you'd been cleared for duty."

Scowling, Mirage replied, "Ratchet's not here to say otherwise."

Optimus 'hmmed' and scrutinized the mech. While he was obviously not fully recovered (dents, fresh welding marks, a very mild limp) it was equally obvious that he would not be going back to berth-rest willingly (squared shoulders, clenched jaw components, narrowed optics). Optimus was almost tempted to release the weary groan weighing on his spark, but he held himself in check. Instead, he said as gently as he could, "You will do no one any good by further damaging yourself, Mirage. Astrid least of all."

Mirage looked so tense that Optimus feared he would strain his gears.

"It is my duty to be here," said Mirage.

"It is also your duty to follow orders."

"There has been no order confining me to my berth."

"Don't make me give one," Optimus said.

There were about five seconds when Optimus feared Mirage would physically lash out at him. But then he suddenly drooped, as if the chords keeping his parts strained had been severed.

"It's my fault," he whispered.

"Could you repeat that, soldier?"

Mirage glared at him, but he obeyed. "It's my fault that Astrid was out in the woods," he said louder. "She came to see me, and we had an argument. She was out there because she was angry with me."

If there was an extra soldier in his ranks for every time he had heard one of his soldiers blame themselves for something entirely out of their control, the Decepticons would never have stood a chance. Granted, in this case Mirage's temper was slightly to blame, but Optimus decided to ignore that fact for the moment. Should both Mirage and Astrid survive this encounter, then he might suggest that Mirage bring his concerns up with his charge, but for the moment he couldn't have one of his best warriors going on the fritz. "And were you so angry with her that you knowingly sent her into the path of the Decepticons?" he asked

"No!"

"Then I fail to see how Astrid's abduction is due to any fault of your own."

Some of the angry spark came back into Mirage's optics, and he slammed his fist into an (thankfully) empty crate. His metal digits left a clear impression on the metal. "Don't play that game with me, Prime! If I hadn't been so condescending, if I had just listened and not let my frustration run off with my processor..."

"Then perhaps we would not be having this discussion," said Prime. "Yes, I know. So do you. Let it end there. Pursuing this train of thought any further will only damage you, and it will _not_ help your fellow Autobots rescue your charge and our medic. My best spy, however, working at optimum capacity would be of _great_ assistance."

Mirage blinked once, and his parts fell into the practiced stance of a solider. His jaw components were still tense, and his servos were clenched, but the strain in his shoulders was due only to the rigid stance of a warrior reporting for duty. "Tell me what to do, sir."

.O.O.O.

"How adorable, the Autobot and his pet cuddling."

The voice jerked Astrid awake, and for a moment she thought the ceiling was falling, then she realized that it was just Ratchet's fingers pressing down over her. There had been ample space for her to crawl out of the strange tent when she went to sleep, but now she was totally encased by the yellow Autobot's hands. Ratchet growled so loudly that the noise vibrated his entire frame.

"What do you want, Barricade?" Ratchet demanded.

"The fleshbag. Hand it over."

Astrid's world shifted as Ratchet moved into what Astrid assumed was a more easily defendable position. Fighting while lying on one's back was next to impossible, especially when bound. "Over my dead body."

"Give it time, medic. If your precious Prime doesn't hand over the Allspark you get _your_ turn with Soundwave. But, really, why make things even more traumatic for the little piece of slag? Just hand it over quietly and avoid a lot of pain for the both of you."

It seemed impossible, but Ratchet's grip on Astrid actually tightened, though nowhere near hard enough to hurt her. "I will not simply hand over my patient."

"Have it your way."

There was a resounding _clang_ and Astrid was knocked against Ratchet's chasis as the mech tumbled back to the ground. With his hands tied he was unable to defend both Astrid and himself, and clearly, he'd chosen to defend his patient. There was a horrible shriek of metal as Barricade's fingers began trying to pry Ratchet's away from the prize, the noise of armor tearing against armor sending chills down the girl's spine. Astrid felt Ratchet's body jerk and heard another, louder, clang followed by a grunt of pain and suddenly light flooded in on her as Ratchet's hands were clawed back. Barricade's face loomed over her and Astrid made a run for it.

It took Barricade all of two steps to catch up with her. She shrieked as she was plucked up, and Barricade gave her a hard shake that left her head and stomach spinning.

"I warned you, fleshling, do not try my patience," he said.

Ratchet groaned from the floor, and Barricade was sure to give him a quick kick to the helm on his way out.

.O.O.O.

When Astrid was returned to Ratchet's cell she was shaking like a leaf and a thin trickle of blood was dripping from her nose. The medic comforted her as best he could, but there was very little he could offer her.

The first time the girl tried to answer Ratchet's questions, she broke down shaking and shivering, and for a horrible minute Ratchet believed that she was slipping into shock. Once she'd calmed down again and the shakes had subsided, she told him that Soundwave had taken charge of the 'demonstration' for this round. There really wasn't anything else she needed to say. Unlike last time, there were no marks from Ravage's claws, Ratchet could find no broken bones and there was no structural damage to Astrid's nose - it would not have been hard for the Decepticon communication officer to modify his audio interrogation techniques to target an organic's delicate senses.

He comforted her through the night, laying her to rest once more over his spark, and gently covering her with his fingers. When she needed noise to distract her, he spoke, when she needed silence to collect herself, he was still. Ratchet still wished he had access to proper medical facilities, however. Although the cold was not a problem so long as Astrid was with him, he feared that she might develop the human condition of hypothermia if they should be parted for any great length of time. And, of course, Primus only knew what sorts of bacteria had found their way into her open wounds. At that point Ratchet would have happily killed something in order to get some decent disinfectant.

"Ratchet," Astrid croaked. "My throat hurts."

Although he ran a quick scan to confirm his belief, Ratchet had little doubt what had caused the discomfort. It wasn't exactly something he wished to bring up, however, so he merely 'hmmed' and pretended to do more scans.

Astrid chuckled, although the sound obviously hurt her, judging by the grimace on her face. "Don't worry, Ratch, I figured it out for myself a while ago. Must be from all the screaming."

"That is... most probable."

"Yeah." She was quiet for a moment. "I think I'd give about anything for some water by this point."

"I know, sparkling."

The door slammed opened then, revealing a grinning Barricade, flanked by two other mechs. Immediately, Astrid tried to bury her face in Ratchet's armor.

"Playtime, slaggers."

.O.O.O.

By now, Astrid was beginning to expect the same ritual every time she was brought to the control room: Prime appeared on the screen, Soundwave made the usual demands, Prime refused the usual demands, and then she got hurt. Simple pattern.

But this time things were different.

To begin with, when Soundwave established the link Prime wasn't alone on the tremendous viewscreen. Prowl and Jazz stood on either side of him, silent, still and unreadable. As happy as she was to see another familiar face, though, Astrid wished that Jazz at least had been excused from the 'discussion'. Knowing that he was watching just made it all the worse. Maybe he'd seen the previous video feeds, but at least she hadn't had to watch his reactions.

Astrid wasn't alone on her end, either. Ratchet had been hauled in along with her, fighting and snarking all the way, still bound hand and foot - well, the mech equivalent of hands and feet at any rate. The Autobots made no indication that either of the prisoners were even there.

Soundwave's monotonous voice announced the third deviation from the established routine: "The demonstration will begin immediately: bring the medic forward."

Still locked in Barricade's grasp, Astrid struggled to keep an eye on the proceedings as Ratchet was dragged towards the viewscreen. Once he'd reached Soundwave, the two mechs doing the dragging forced him to his knees. None of the mechs on the screen so much as flinched, but Astrid cringed enough for all of them.

This time Soundwave's torture was silent. Instead of blasting the mech into a shaking pile of spare parts with his sonic weapons, he extended a small pair of scissor-like appendages from one finger and placed them over one of the exposed wires in Ratchet's neck area.

_Clip_. Ratchet tensed, but didn't cry out or try to jerk away. _Clip._ Another wire. _Clip. _Then another. _Clip._

Slowly but surely, Ratchet began to respond to the abuse of his systems - first there was a grunt, then flinch, then what might have been a lunge away from the dainty torturing device if it weren't for the mechs restraining him. After a bit of clipping these smaller - and clearly sensitive - wires, Soundwave moved on to bigger targets. With a single jerk, he tore back a piece of Ratchet's armor and clipped what Astrid could only assume was a coolant line, judging by the color of the fluid that came rushing out.

It was not in Ratchet's character to scream and beg - especially during the very first torture session since his imprisonment - but it _was_ well within the range of his personality to curse fluently in both Cybertronian and Earth languages as more and more damage was inflicted on his unprotected wiring. Up to that point Astrid had never realized just how fluent Ratchet was in English swear words and unsavory phraseology. The larger the wire or fluid line that was severed, the more colorful the language.

Astrid shared none of his qualms, however, about appearances and mech-liness, and took it upon herself to scream for him. By this point, Astrid figured that she'd screamed enough to lose any reputation she might have had to safe guard, so there was no point holding back when a friend was in need. It didn't take long, though, for Barricade to grow annoyed with her, and he gave her a dangerously hard squeeze before rumbling quietly in her ear, "You will scream enough soon, fleshling. It would be better for us both if you were to save your screams for me, and not waste them on the medic. He has no need for them." Fear silenced Astrid's tongue in a way that nothing else had ever been able to. Fortunately, Ratchet's suffering did not last much longer.

After cutting into a few more wires and one or two more lines that Astrid _hoped_ were secondary, Soundwave seemed to tire of tormenting his victim. With one more savage _clip_ that made Ratchet shout a very colorful explicative, the Decepticon's tool reverted to a normal extension of his finger, and the two guards hauled Ratchet back a few paces.

"No permanent damage has been inflicted on the medic. Continued refusal from Autobots will result in greater damage to the higher ranking hostage."

Barricade seemed to take this as his cue and stepped forward with Astrid.

"Refusal to present time will now result in increased damage to the lesser hostage," Soundwave continued. "Barricade, proceed."

The metal around Astrid's rips suddenly disappeared, and with a shriek she plummeted to the surface of the crate beneath her. Her knee twanged on impact along with several other sensitive points along her right leg, causing her to utter a Ratchet-like oath. Two black hands slammed down on either side of her, and Barricade's ugly scowl bore down on her like an angry titan. Before she could even try darting away, one of the hands pinned her down to the hard, slick lid. Astrid's breath left her lungs in a _whoosh_ and while she was still struggling to recall the proper method of drawing in air, something sharp slammed down and pierced _through_ her shoulder.

Any breath she had left was expelled by her surprised scream.

Though she could no longer see the screen - only Barricade's devilish red optics - Astrid could dimly hear one of the Autobots shifting and one or two anxious words in the strange, dial-up sounds of Cybertronian. Ratchet's curses were coming through loud and clear, though.

"You Pit-spawned slaggers! What are you doing? Get that slagger off of my patient!"

As the air slowly crept back into Astrid's chest, she felt a faint muzziness clouding her head. Her shoulder felt wet, and her body had completely relaxed, like all muscle and bone had melted into nerveless goo. Was this what shock felt like?

It didn't last long.

Barricade ripped the tip of his finger back savagely from the fresh hole in Astrid's shoulder, and everything became crystal clear. Her shoulder _screamed_, and she could feel every piece of armor and every joint in Barricade's hand that was pressing her down. The finger came down again, on her thigh this time, and she had a new sensation of agony to distract her. As he twisted the tip of his finger in her wound, Astrid began beating her head against the crate lid, trying to distract herself, or at least keep herself from screaming again. Her lips bled as she bit down on them, and the hot flavor of her own blood washed over her tongue. The distraction was enough to keep her from shouting again. But Barricade wasn't having any of that, and jerked the claw up to make a fine slit in the skin of her upper leg.

She was past the point of listening to what was going on around her, and she could barely even register her own screaming. The pain made her ears ring so badly that she forgot there was a sound in the world besides that harsh buzz. The claws were everywhere, one reentering the hole in her shoulder and another staying in her leg to hold her in place, but the rest danced like knives over every part of her Barricade could reach. Each slash blazed like fire and doused itself in liquid flames that spread and soaked Astrid's clothes in red.

A single claw slid down her face - almost tenderly - leaving a shallow cut behind to mark its trail. "I told you your screams were better saved for me."

Then the claws were gone from her skin, shoulder and leg, and Barricade's digits once more wrapped her in their crushing embrace. Two digits from his other hand trailed down to toy with the leg he had not stabbed. They pinched it lightly and, with a deft twist, snapped the bone. Astrid cried, past the point of screaming, and wheezed pathetically in Barricade's clutches as she sobbed. _Everything_ hurt. She could no longer distinguish which parts ached from which injury, and when Barricade's fingers began to squeeze her rib cage to the point of fracturing something, she could barely even move one arm to try and escape.

Astrid both saw and heard something crack in her torso - and she finally blacked out.

.O.O.O.

"The status of the Decepticon demands have not changed," Soundwave droned. "How do the Autobots respond?"

Ratchet didn't know how the others would respond, but he was doing plenty of responding on his own. Even restrained, he was proving to be a pain in the aft for the two 'Cons holding - or trying to hold - him. Both had a series of dents and scratches, and while they'd been sure to give back what was given, Ratchet was still fighting strong. The sight of the youngling being shredded in the hands of the Decepticon Barricade was enough to make his fuel lines burn. His optics had brightened to a dangerously pale blue, and his systems kept trying to active his absent surgical saws for a purpose entirely different than their name suggested.

"The Autobots agree to the demands."

Ratchet froze. _What?_

"Under a number of conditions, the first of which being that Ratchet is enabled to treat Astrid Fenner. Any medical supplies in his possession upon capture are to be returned to him so that he can perform his function."

Soundwave took a moment to process this and then nodded his assent. "Condition: Acceptable." He turned to Barricade and the 'Cons struggling with Ratchet. "Remove the hostages to their cell, and comply with Autobot conditions."

As Ratchet was tugged backwards by his two 'escorts' he made optic contact with Optimus Prime in the viewscreen. His leader's expression said everything he needed to know: We have a plan, your part in it is to keep Astrid and yourself alive. There was no need to reply, and no opportunity to do so, either, as the door slammed shut behind him half a second later.

Astrid was still limp in Barricade's claws, and going from what he could see of her and what he'd witnessed in the control room, he began to make an inventory of her injuries. He also tried to list possible methods of healing or at least soothing the youngling until help could arrive.

An order was an order, after all, and a promise was a promise, even if it was a silent one.

A/N: So, do you hate me now? I know Astrid does. The faster/more you review, the faster the updates shall appear!

Replies to those without accounts:

HiddenWithinMyself: Thanks for your review! Well, one way to find out: keep reading! ;D

BrokenShiftKey: Thanks for your review! I'm so glad that I've got you that interested! Hopefully this update was fast enough for you! Thanks again!

Sammy J: Oh, wow, thanks! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, too, and hopefully it wasn't too intense for you. That is a HUGE compliment to me, and I thank you very, very much for your prayers, they are appreciated. Unfortunately, ffn erases email and website addresses when you try to email or post them. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter!

GodisGod!Iamnot: Thanks for the review! Yeah, some of these are pretty short, but I think they're fairly intense, so I guess it balances out. There's one coming up that's pretty long, so... hopefully that makes up for the shortness here. Thanks again!


	18. Of Medics and Emissaries

Disclaimer: Are we seriously going to argue at this hour of the night about whether or not I actually own Transformers? If I did I would be able to update at regular times, and there would be a lot more fanfare. *Drops dead*

A/N: So, yes, late again and very, very tired. I have the best reasons ever, though: cleaning entire house for company (seriously, I had a thing used to get cobwebs off the ceiling, we missed nothing), having company (brand new sister-in-law to be who is getting married to my brother along with a beautiful, bouncy six-month-old), preparing for wedding and doing henna tattoos for friends. Yikes. Awesome, but yikes. Melissa (sissy-to-be) is much fun - I just got off after about three or four hours of working on a practice wedding cake with her- my niece-to-be (adoption is AWESOME!) is adorable, and actually LIKES me, so I've had my hands full, and practicing henna, so I can get people at school to pay me for it. Yeah. Oh, and I'll be doing this art/daycamp thing for a girl my mom tutors all this week and the beginning of next week on top of my OTHER obligations to the growing family.

If the next update is late, please forgive me. And encourage me with reviews ;). As for THIS chapter, I distantly remember being fairly happy with it, so we're just gonna go with that. I shall try my darnest to reply to last chapter's reviews in a timely manner, but I fear that I can make no promises. Enjoy!

Oh, and for all who commented on Barricade: he's the most fascinating sadistic creeper you'll ever meet, and by far one of the most interesting to write.

Chapter 18: Of Medics and Emissaries

"Alright. So in order to make a plan, we have to figure out the 'Con's game."

Lennox was standing on the rough sheet metal table that had been set up in the camp's briefing room. The other leading officers of the human military force that had accompanied the Autobots stood around him, as close as they could get at the moment to eye-level with the transformers. The screen which had displayed Astrid and Ratchet's torture less than an hour before was now blank and dark. Around the table were the assembled forces of Optimus Prime's strike force.

Jolt leaned over to Ironhide, who understood far more human 'slang' than he did."Game?"

"The slaggers' plan."

"Oh."

"The first thing we need to figure out is why they seem to enjoy targeting Astrid," said Lennox.

"Well that's an easy one," Epps said. "She makes an easy target."

"As much as I hate to say it," said Jazz, "he's got a point. Little lady ain't exactly the toughest o' the bunch."

"And she only had one Autobot guardian, as opposed to living on or near the base," Lennox added. "Less of a fight, and it would be easy to overwhelm the guardian and get two hostages instead of one."

"Of all the humans we have established permanent relationships with, Astrid would be one of the easiest to capture," Optimus rumbled. "If they wanted a human hostage, she would have been the most... logical choice. And while Mirage is one of our finest in his area of expertise he is not a melee 'Bot, and could in all likelihood be overwhelmed far easier than say, Ironhide, would be in a similar situation."

"But why did they keep after her so persistently? The assault on the school fits into a plan. But the attack in the woods was much too random," Ironhide argued.

"Bad luck," said Epps. "Really bad luck."

"They were probably combing the woods in search of other students we hadn't found yet," said Lennox. "Astrid and Ratchet were just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"So they want to trade the two hostages for the shard of the Allspark we're guarding?" Sideswipe said. "They have to know that won't work."

"I agree," said Optimus. "I have no doubt that they would be pleased if we complied, but I can't help thinking that this is not the main purpose of their scheme. Some grander plot is being forged."

"A distraction?" Jazz asked.

"In all probability."

The weapons specialist vented his frustration by leaving a dent on the table."Then what do we do?" Ironhide demanded. "We can't just go along with a diversion if we know something more important is afoot."

"We can," Optimus said. "We must simply keep our eyes open as we do so."

"So that's the game," Lennox said, tapping his nails restively on his sleeve. "Now what's our plan of action?"

"The Decepticons have agreed to our conditions," Optimus said, "the first of which being that Ratchet is enabled to care for Astrid's wounds, which - hopefully - will ensure that they are both functioning when we come for them. The second condition - that the shard be delivered by two emissaries from our faction to two Decepticon emissaries - was also agreed to. Hopefully we can avoid a large scale battle through this exchange, but there was a catch."

"Of course there was," Sunstreaker said. "No Decepticon would risk a fairly matched fight."

"One of our emissaries must be human. And nonmilitary."

"_What?_" said Epps. "You've gotta be kiddin'. We are _not_ sending one of those kids into a possible firefight. If anything happens the 'Cons'll just get themselves another hostage - or two."

"And what about Astrid?"

The debate came to a screeching halt and all heads - both human and mechanoid - swivelled to stare at the little human standing in the tent's open entrance, cast in a sling around her neck and free hand fisted on her hip.

"What about Astrid?"

"Uh - miss," Epps said, rising and clearly going to shoo her back to the medical section of the camp. "This is a really bad time. How about you head back to your tent now, and later..."

"Astrid is out of laters."

"What is your relationship to Astrid Fenner?" Optimus asked, his processor churning over the facts he already had on the human in question. He remembered a very brief encounter at the Fenner's old place of residence, and he'd been informed that she had been selected as Astrid's roommate, but he was curious. Human relations were so puzzling at times.

"Roommate and best friend... forever... which would mean that you've got yourselves a volunteer."

"Miss..."

"My name is Jenna, thanks."

"Jenna," Lennox said, coming to stand in front of her. "This is very serious stuff you're jumping into. For all we know this might very well be a suicide mission. You should at least hear the facts before you draft yourself."

"Bad guys want something you guys have," Jenna said, waving distractedly towards the Autobots, "and they want a human that's not in the military to help deliver it. Yeah, I think I've got it."

"It could be a trap."

"It's _probably_ a trap," Jenna corrected. Epps gave her a sidelong look, and she answered with a shrug, "Hey, I've played capture the flag as many times as any other college kid. I know _something_ about strategy."

Lennox looked her straight in the eye. "You could be killed."

"Astrid _will be_ if someone doesn't give you guys a hand with this, and from what I've seen most of the other students are all heading for the nearest rock to hide under, so I doubt you'll be getting any of them to walk straight into the lion's mouth. Heck," she held up her cast and grinned, "I'm even wounded. Won't that look nice and pathetic to lure the bad guys into _your_ trap?"

"What?" Epps barked. Was this kid a mind reader as well as an eavesdropper?

"Capture the flag, remember?"

.O.O.O.

True to Soundwave's commands, the Decepticons brought Ratchet's supplies to him shortly after they'd dumped him back in his shared cell with Astrid. The first thing he went for was the water. Instead of the flimsy plastic bottles that humans seemed so fond of, he had chosen to carry a number of metal containers that were far more durable and less likely to crack open or leak in the middle of a battle. He didn't have many of them, though. The liquid-filled canisters were bulky and awkward to carry very many of and still have room for other supplies. He hoped that he would have enough for his present needs. If Astrid died because he'd been too inconvenienced to carry a few extra canteens on his person - well, she wasn't going to die, anyway, so there was no point pursuing that train of thought.

He plucked up the first of the precious five containers and spared some of the contents in his efforts to wake his patient. At first the dribble of water pattering over her face had no effect except to remove some of the blood and sweat masking her skin. Then Astrid came back to consciousness with a wild jerk and Ratchet resumed the cursing he had begun in the control room. Her spiking heart rate was almost frantic enough to be picked up by his audios, and her wheezing breath could probably be heard by the Decepticons on the other side of the door.

"Astrid, it's Ratchet. Calm down," he ordered.

The girl was floundering, eyes wide and mouth agape in such a manner that Ratchet was forced to restrain her to prevent the youngling from damaging herself further.

"C-can't - breathe!"

"One of your ribs was broken. You must lie still or you could puncture a lung, and I do not have the necessary supplies to combat such an injury here."

"Can't breathe!"

"You are inducing a panic attack, Astrid. You can't breathe because you're afraid. But there is nothing to be scared of here, only me. _Relax_. Then you will be able to breathe properly."

As he spoke he carefully released her and began stroking her as comfortingly as he could without aggravating Barricade's slashes. She was still twitching - almost involuntarily - but her breathing was evening out, though it was still shallow. It was the best he could do. Until he fixed that rib, breathing would be painful for her, and it would be excruciating to even attempt a deeper breath.

"Astrid," he said. There was no response. "Youngling."

"...Yeah, Ratch?" Her words were fuzzy, blurred together. Not a good sign. Relaxing was good, but it would ease his processor if she were sharper and more alert while conscious.

"I need to stop the bleeding."

"Do your worst, Doc. I'm not gonna be putting up much of a fight today."

In another situation he might have thanked her for being one of his - few - willing patients. As it was, he made sure to give her a flick to the head as he checked her over.

Ratchet had never been happier with his decision to start carrying human medical supplies. He was forced to use nearly every roll of gauze he possessed to bind his patient's many gashes. The holes in her arm and leg required serious surgery, but he had nothing near that level of technology with him and the best he could do was stop the profuse bleeding and dress the open holes. He would set her leg later, when she was once again asleep or unconscious: whichever came first. There was no point putting her through more torture at the moment.

She was already starting to nod off as it was, and Ratchet was very grateful. Now that he knew she _could_ wake up and there was no head trauma for him to worry about, he was much less worried about her escaping her pain through recharge. In fact, it was probably better for her to be unconscious. It would delay the inevitable _emotional_ trauma that he was _sure_ she would suffer and at the moment - when a Decepticon could walk in at any instant and resume the 'demonstration' - it was better for her to think of nothing at all.

.O.O.O.

The sun was almost below the horizon when the occupants of the briefing room emerged again. Clouds of mosquitoes were hovering over the heads of the unfortunate humans - a gift from the marshy creeks and spotty woods of central Ohio - and Lennox overheard Epps mumbling about a possible raid of the absent Ratchet's medical supplies on his quest to find some soothing, anti-itch ointments. Lennox had a safer destination in mind.

Nearly every tent and cabin was filled with more college students than they probably should have been. There was always one spot, though, where people could go to hide, no matter where in the world they went. At this particular spot on the globe, the place turned out to be the old cabin the transformers had commandeered to store their more delicate technology and spare weaponry. Of course they couldn't fit inside (some of the machines stored there could barely fit, either), but it was far safer to have the tech out of reach and dry instead of at hand and at risk of a good soaking in the snow.

The pink and yellow colors melting from the sinking sun into the snow were lovely, and a few students were gathered out in small groups watching the show, but Lennox didn't stop to talk with any of them, as he might have in other circumstances. At the moment there was someone who needed his attention far more than the frightened youth trying to find the comfort they once did in a pretty sunset. He'd let them enjoy their moments by themselves. This was probably the first sunset they'd taken the time to watch in months. He remembered what college was like.

When he reached the tech cabin the sun was just reaching its peak of brilliance before it vanished for the night, and as he threw open the door the bright light threw the single room into golden clarity. Except for one dark corner, where Lennox could just make out a hunched silhouette.

"Hey, soldier."

The silhouette did not answer and Lennox stepped inside with a suppressed sigh, shutting the door behind him. The light was cut off instantly, and the whole cabin was choked with an almost blinding darkness. Only a few cracks let in thin blades of gold from outside, and those did little to illuminate the scene. Lennox stumbled his way to the corner where the figure sat, and eased himself down beside him. The floor was dusty, and cobwebs stuck to his hands and face as he made himself comfortable. More than likely he would be there for a while. He set his hands on his knees and shifted a little. How would he feel in a situation like this? What if it was someone from _his_ family? His wife, Sarah? His little Annabelle?

"I can't say if it'll all be ok," Lennox said at length. "But I can tell you that we'll do everything we can to get her back, and I mean all of us."

Next to him, the silhouette shifted - just a little - but it was enough to let Lennox know that he'd been heard.

"The 'Bots will seriously move mountains to get that kid back," he continued, "and you know how _we_ feel about her. She's part of the family, man, we won't let her down."

For a long time they sat like that, and Lennox let the silence just sit between them, soothing and easy. If the captain suspected that the airman was crying, he gave no sign. No one disturbed them in the little cabin as the slivers of gold faded from the floor and the black night settled over the camp.

.O.O.O.

As the sun was rising outside, Astrid was slowly fading inside the Decepticon headquarters. She was still perfectly coherent - ever since she was awoken in the middle of night courtesy of a 'Con banging on the door in an effort to rile Ratchet (he _had_ riled Ratchet, actually). Ever since then she'd been listening to the music of the medic's curses and oaths, punctuated - to her shame - by her own groans and whimpers.

Every time she twitched - it hurt.

Every time she spoke - it hurt.

Every time Rachet forced her to drink - it hurt.

Every time she _breathed_ it hurt.

Everything hurt. All the time.

Before this, she hadn't really known what it was to hurt. Banged elbows, skinned knees, some scar-worthy dog bites and knife wounds from her earlier attempts at cooking. She'd even electrocuted herself with a toaster once. But those had been nothing like this. This was all-consuming pain that she could sometimes think around but could never ignore or forget. Even the _extremely_ mild pain killers that Ratchet had been able to offer her did little more than let her know that she needed much stronger meds... and a _lot_ of them.

A couple hours before dawn, though, things changed. Barricade came into the mech-sized room that was Ratchet and Astrid's cell. If Ratchet had been at optimum fighting levels he would have wrestled the hunter to the ground and ripped his circuitry out before his very optics. As things were it was all he could do to get in one solid hit before Barricade slammed him into the wall and left his processor spinning. When his optics finally stopped fritzing and came back online, it was to see the Decepticon standing there with Astrid in his claws, examining Ratchet's work with disdain.

"Why waste so much effort on a puny organic?" he asked.

Ratchet growled, feeling his systems slowly rebooting, and wished that Soundwave had not snipped quite so many wires. It would take more luck than anything for Barricade to stall himself long enough for Ratchet to gather the necessary energy to stand back up and retrieve his patient. Those claws were making him edgy. He'd seen the damage they could do. He'd _treated_ it.

All things considered, Astrid was doing pretty well. She wasn't screaming or thrashing at all. She was - in fact - maybe doing a little too well... and she was unearthly pale.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Ratchet ground out.

Barricade looked honestly surprised. "Nothing, Autobot. Don't worry, I haven't been _authorized_ to spend any more _playtime_ with your darling little pet. All I did was pick her up."

"In her condition?" Ratched barked. The last necessary system came back online, and he lunged across the room to pluck Astrid from the police car's grip. There was a large red stain spreading over the bandage covering her leg. "You slagging _idiot_! She's bleeding out. The wound must have reopened..."

"So pathetic. Why do you even bother? The little piece of scrap will probably deactivate anyway. Although, I must confess, that this one did have the most wonderful screams."

"Would you just shut off your vocalizer and _leave?_"

"I will. But only because I no longer care to stay. Just remember, medic: the moment we have that Allspark shard, your usefulness will be at its end, and Soundwave isn't exactly known for fair play. Even if you somehow manage to save your pet for the moment, it will be my immense pleasure to kill your precious organic slowly - and painfully - as you watch. Maybe I can get a few more screams out of it before it deactivates."

Then he left, and Ratchet rushed to stop the profuse bleeding from the hole Barricade had made in Astrid's leg.

"Astrid? Little one? Slag it. Sparkling? Stay with me, Astrid. Don't you dare die. That's an order. Astrid? Sparkling? Stay, please, they're on their way. They're coming. Sparkling."

.O.O.O.

"So - uh - how long have you known Astrid?" Jenna asked.

"Little more than a year," the car rumbled - _Jazz_ - Jenna reminded herself - the car was called _Jazz_.

"And you work with her brother, right?"

"Yeah," said the car - _Jazz_.

Jenna grinned. "I would've paid good money to see his face when he met you guys."

The seat vibrated and a deep chuckle came over the speakers. "It woulda been worth every cent."

"I'm sure."

"What about you? How long have you known the little lady?"

Of all the things she didn't want to think about right now..."Since elementary school." Pranking the other students, pranking the teacher, pranking the principle...bologna sandwiches and Oreos.

"So you must've known her back when she was really short."

"Was? She still is."

Jazz seemed to get a kick out of that and he laughed as they made a sharp turn on the rough back road. For a sports car he did an excellent job navigating over the shattered pavement, potholes and occasional dirt tracks. Jenna barely even felt the jolts in the comfy seat, with the seatbelt wrapped snugly around her.

In her palm was the box that Optimus Prime - the _really_ big one - had given her. She fiddled with it so much that she nearly dropped it a few times when they hit a bump or took a corner a bit too fast. The longer they drove the more she was figuring out that holding onto a slick metal container with only one good arm was actually kinda hard. As they neared their destination, Jenna traced the frowning face on the lid so many times that she was sure she could trace it again on just about anything with fingerpaint. Maybe she would. If she got Astrid (and herself) out of this, then she'd get the stupid little idiot back by painting the frowny face all over Astrid's side of the dorm room... or whatever room - she was pretty sure their section of the dorm had been blasted in the big alien fight a couple nights back.

"It's a real brave thing you're doin'," the car - _Jazz!_ - said. "Two of you much be tight."

"Yeah," Jenna said, toying the box some more, "we're close. But I'm not brave. Exactly the opposite, actually."

"How in the _world_ can you call this not brave?" Jazz said.

"Because one of the biggest reasons I'm doing this is because I can't imagine not having Astrid. Because I'm too afraid to risk finding out what that would be like."

For a minute, there was silence in the car.

"Maybe that's all bravery is, girl."

They pulled off the road and rolled into a broad, tree-less field that must have grown corn or soybean in the warmer months. As Jazz came to a stop, the sunrise waved its first pink tendrils over the horizon.

Jenna shivered nervously and squirmed in her seat. "Let the games begin."

A/N: Alright, good? Please review. Remind my brain that it is for thinking. That would be awesome.

Replies:

HiddenWithinMyself: Thank you! Yeah, suspense keeps you reading, but you will want it to end at the same time... poor prisoners, indeed. Glad you enjoyed, hope you keep reading!

SammyJ: Thanks for the review! I'm sorry, too. Mirage knows. He hasn't been allowed into the briefing room at the time, but he knows. I could never hate Barricade. Loathe him, shrink in terror from him and declaim him to be a creeper, yes, but never hate. He's way too much fun to write. Thank you very much, the longer chapter is STILL coming, although this one was fairly good in length, thanks again for the prayers, and I hope to hear from you again!

Chio: Thank you! I am so glad you like this story that much! It gives me the push the keep going this close to the end. Hope to see more reviews from you in the future!

GodisGod!Iamnot...: Thanks for the review! Oh, wow, I remember my first move-in day. Good luck! I totally understand if you're a bit too busy to read and review to fanfic! . Hope to hear from you eventually, though! God bless!


	19. Of Angry 'Bots and Radioactivity

Disclaimer: Me no own and you no sue, dooda, dooda...

A/N: Ok, so I'm sort of epic failing at keeping up with all the review replies. I hope you can forgive me. Here's a chapter (on time for once - yay!) that I hope will make up for at least a little of my tardiness last week. You have no idea how much I look forward to your reviews, and if you find the time to read this fic I humbly BEG that you take the time to drop a word or two for me. I know you are all busy with the return to school and all, but so am I, and on top of that I have my sister-in-law to be and niece to be staying here and a wedding to help plan/organize/prepare for. Oh, and a job. So, PLEASE review if you read this. Thanks.

Chapter Nineteen: Of Angry 'Bots and Radioactivity

Although she was new to the whole mechanoid alien, intergalactic representative negotiation thingy, Jenna was no newb when it came to strategy, as she had proven to Tech Sergeant Epps only the night before. By her estimation she and Jazz would not be on the winning end of this encounter if it escalated into a fight in the open field. Jazz was _huge_ in comparison to any human, but next to his own kind he was downright short, not that she would ever dare tell him to his face. Maybe that was why he got along so well with Astrid.

But the two mechs approaching them across the field were big. Like, really, REALLY big. If it all came down to a fight, she had no doubt that those two together could easily take on Jazz, and she had even less doubt that she would be as much help as a cadaver.

Good thing that if it _did_ come to a fight Jazz wouldn't have to depend on her alone. But then, she doubted the Decepticons would come without back-up, either.

None of that was her problem, though. Well, it would be her problem if they lost, but she had been _ordered_ to forget whatever might happen in the field. Her mission was her own, and Jazz's mission was his.

"_Whatever happens, whatever you hear, you do not turn around," Lennox ordered her. Another soldier was standing beside her, working an earpiece into the crannies of her ear and attaching several other wires in case something should happen to their first line of communication. She wanted to rip the weird little things out of her ear and off her skin, but she kept her hands stiffly by her sides. No point making the soldier boys more worried about this exchange than absolutely necessary. "We will always be right with you. You can talk to us, and we can talk to you, but you cannot stop. Do you understand?"_

_The lump in her throat said 'no' but her lips said,"Yeah."_

"_Good. Now, when things get started, here's what you need to do..."_

Jenna had her orders. She was a soldier, too, now.

.O.O.O.

Over the last several hours, Astrid's condition had been rapidly deteriorating. Her breaths wheezed and the blood was still oozing - albeit slowly now - from her thigh wound. Ratchet could have made a list a mile long with all the supplies he needed. Sanitizer, bandages, aspirin and water were not nearly enough to deal with the results of Decepticon torture. He needed the sort of equipment a hospital possessed in order to deal with such injuries.

One hour and twelve minutes ago Astrid had stopped responding to his calls. If she did not receive adequate medical attention in the next few hours, Ratchet's medical training informed him that she would in all likelihood cease to function. His spark, however, refused to acknowledge such a fact.

The horror of energon coating his hands after a particularly cruel battle and the inevitable grueling sessions that always followed in the medical bay had ceased to phase him millennia ago. Now, he was discovering the horror of human blood dripping from his digits - the Priums slagging stuff that wouldn't stop flowing out of his patient. With mechs, all he had to do was solder or replace a wire, a length of tubing or part of a tank. Sometimes he was too late to save them, but the energon would always stop, even if their spark still sputtered out from the lack of it. The blood, however, just kept flowing and flowing. Such a garish red that crusted to brown. If only it would crust in the wound and not on his fingers.

She was so pale now. She almost resembled one of the humans' ghosts, the spirits of the dead returned. If the rescue he had been promised via that look over the viewscreen didn't come soon, he feared that Astrid might actually become such a spirit.

"Optimus," he said, "what's keeping you so slagging long?"

.O.O.O.

There was silence in the field for several minutes, and Jenna knew that each side was busy communicating over their private comm channels with their superiors. She knew because she was listening in to the Autobot's side of the conversation over her own ear bud. It was really weird to know that everyone was talking and yet... hearing... nothing.

"We've got two 'Cons incoming," Jazz said over the channel. "Just as we arranged."

"Good," Optimus replied. "Keep a sharp eye on the surroundings. I have no doubt that there are more nearby."

"Me neither," said Jazz.

"Jenna," Lennox's voice ordered, "don't forget your mission. If you slip up on this we may not be able to get to you before the 'Cons do."

Since she didn't want to alert the two approaching monsters to the fact that they were chatting with the home base (although they probably already knew) she didn't respond. But Jazz was watching her closely, anyway, and replied for her.

"She knows. And I'll give her a push in the right direction when the times comes."

"Good."

Then the Decepticons decided to make the conversation audible.

"Did you bring the Allspark fragment?"

"I- ahem - I've got it," Jenna said, holding up the little box with her one good arm.

The mech who hadn't spoken frowned and appeared to be squinting at the box. Scanning, Jenna thought.

"The fleshy has the shard," he said. "The container is saturated with Allspark radiation."

Radiation?! Jenna thought. Somehow the others had failed to mention that to her when she signed up for this job. Oh, well, too late now. If she died in a hospital bed with an extra head that argued with her all day, at least it would be in the name of a good cause.

"Have your squishy come to us," Ugly 'Con Number 1 ordered.

"Got two problems with that," said Jazz. "Firstly, she ain't _my squishy_, so she wouldn't do what I told her to anyway. Secondly - how stupid do you think I am?"

"Judging by that mark on your chest? Very."

Jazz's guns whirred to life, and were quickly aimed at the offending mechs. In another heartbeat, the two Decepticons also had their weapons out and trained on their Autobot foe. Jenna was just grateful that none of the guns were aimed at her, though she guessed that had more to do with the precious Allspark piece and less to do with her squishy self.

"You wanna make somethin' out o' this?" Jazz snapped.

"Only if you're willing to start something for once, Autobot," Ugly 'Con Number 2 said. "But maybe that won't be too hard for you this time. I heard that the human we've been playing with used to be yours before that slagger Mirage claimed it."

The growl Jazz issued was no threat at all compared to the growing hum from his weapons. Before he could act, several other Decepticons appeared from the rim of the woods, all with weapons primed and aimed at the silver 'Bot. Jenna's hands trembled with adrenaline and fear. Not yet...

"What did you think about the job Barricade did on the little fleshy?" the second 'Con continued. "Did your servos shut down when he snapped that tiny little appendage of hers? Such slagging, fragile structures these organics have, why, with just one twist..."

_SshhreeewCLAANG!_

"What the slag?" 'Con Number One exclaimed.

The first shot had been fired, but it hadn't been by Jazz. The twin terrors were charging out of the opposite side of the woods, and Sunstreaker's canon was still glowing from the heat of the missile he'd launched. Other Autobots came racing out after them, among them Ironhide with both canons aglow. But Jenna was still the only human on the field.

She wasn't for long, though. Soon there were no humans on the field. If she usually ran as fast as she did that morning she'd have a spot on the Olympic track team, but she had really never sped so fast in her life, and she never did after. So much for her aspirations of grandeur.

With all the fighting going on behind her, none of the 'Cons seemed all that interested in keeping tabs on the itty bitty human running around. Maybe they _were_ a little more interested in the _radioactive_ box she was holding, but Jazz took out the two mechs near enough to pose a threat and after that the box was easily ditched. As heavy as it was, it didn't have a chance against an icy creek. One good-sized rock cleared a hole in the ice, and the cute little container went sailing in after it like a clingy younger sibling. Jenna went a little farther upstream and found a stabler place to cross. The snow had her slightly worried, but the sheet of ice covering the water proved thick enough to withstand both her weight and the insulating effects of the snow. Behind her was a neat little trail for any interested Decepticons to follow, but she'd been assured that her tracks wouldn't be a problem: by the time the 'Cons and 'Bots finished beating the living snot out of each other in the clearing, there would be no way to tell which way she'd gone until it was far too late to worry over a measly organic. Even if they did decided to break off the fight and start tailing her, they'd lose interest once they found the box. That was the only value they assigned to her existence, so there would be no point in continuing chasing her after that.

"Package mailed," Jenna said aloud. "I'm clear."

"_Good,"_ Lennox's voice crackled. _"Get to the designated rendevous point and meet up with your transport."_

"On my way."

It wasn't too hard to wade through the snow, but by the time Jenna reached her destination she was swearing that some giant had gone and added hills to central Ohio that were _definitely_ not there a week ago. As happy as she might have been in other conditions to see something besides flat farmland - how many times had she and Astrid whined about the scenery? - the snow and ice made the treks uphill very tricky and the trips downhill even trickier. By the time she arrived she was soaked through and had a muddy patch smeared up one leg. Hopefully her ride wouldn't mind.

He didn't. When Mirage arrived he was all business. One door popped open for her and he commanded, "Get in quickly."

She had no problem complying, and shuddered in delight to find that the Autobot had already turned on the heat for her.

"Is the container hidden?"

"Sorta. It's in a little river," Jenna said, pulling off her sopping gloves. "Beneath the ice. Should prove to be a _little_ challenging to track in there."

"A little," Mirage agreed. "Enough to keep them occupied for the necessary length of time."

"Right. Good. How long do you think this is going to take, then, exactly?"

"If all goes according to plan, under thirty minutes. If it does not, much longer."

"Ok then. Let's make sure everything goes according to plan."

On a road in the middle of central Ohio, a flashy sportscar suddenly blinked out of existence.

.O.O.O.

Ratchet bent over Astrid, swearing up a storm in his processor and murmuring comforting nothings to his failing patient.

"Sparkling? Don't you _dare_ deactivate now. Do you understand? Don't. You. Dare."

The little organic remained limp in his hands, and his processor returned to cursing. Every bandage and roll of gauze he still had on hand had already been used to bind the wounds that _still_ refused to stop bleeding. It would ease his processor considerably if he could just ease a little water down her throat from time to time, as he was sure that she was dehydrated after nearly two days without water, and he knew for a fact that the human body could not produce adequate blood without fresh fluid in its system. The little matter of food was also bothering him. Although humans could go much longer than this without sustenance, they needed proper nutrients and food energy to combat both injury and infection. All it would take was one little microorganism to slip in somewhere it shouldn't be and the stakes against Astrid's life could raise considerably. Goodness knew the little sanitizers he had were not enough to properly clean the many holes and gashes.

But at least the leg was set - not to his satisfaction, but it was set. This was perhaps the one blessing to Astrid's catatonic state. Had she been awake the pain of realigning and setting the bone would have been tremendous, and Ratchet had no desire to hear more of her screaming that day. Mercifully unconscious as she was, though, she hadn't so much as twitched during the entire operation. Now the leg was held straight and steady by an iron rod (which had been the Pit trying to convince the Decepticons he actually needed) tied to her leg with some of the precious bandages. But it wasn't a perfect arrangement, and he feared long-term repercussions for the limb if it were not treated with a cast soon.

All was quiet in the halls outside. Strange. Usually there was at least one guard shifting and clanging about near the door. Perhaps Prime's trade was being carried out. Ratchet hoped so. Astrid's condition was rapidly deteriorating, and if she was not taken to a hospital in the next several hours she would cross the one line Ratchet couldn't drag her back from.

_Hurry the slag up, Optimus._

.O.O.O.

The loading bay door opened without so much as a _swoosh_, and from the safety of Mirage's palm, Jenna peered inside. The place was big. Of course, that was to be expected when dealing with giant metal aliens, she supposed. Once upon a time the building had been a massive factory, but like so many of its kind, funding had been pulled in the face of declining profits and the building had been abandoned to the rats and cockroaches... and aliens.

In three silent strides Mirage had reached a human-sized door at the far end of the room, and he knelt to carefully place his cargo on the ground. Jenna peered up at the general area of his face (it was hard to look an invisible person in the eye) from her new vantage point and gave him a thumbs-up. "Let's do this."

"Be careful, and maintain radio silence. Soundwave could undoubtedly trace any signals sent from inside his own headquarters."

And then he was gone. She couldn't see that he was gone, because she couldn't see him when he was there, but still, there was an empty silence after that and the weird tingly sensation of being watched by invisible eyes vanished.

After the building had degenerated into its present state the owners seemed to have decided that it wasn't worth arming with a security system, so the keypad beside the door didn't so much as spark when Jenna slipped into the next hallway. This one was squishy-sized. That was the whole plan, really, using Jenna to get into places Mirage couldn't. While the 'Bot went in search of the control room, Jenna went tripping off to find Astrid and the captured Autobot.

Very few Decepticons were roaming the halls, at least that Jenna could _hear_ and for that she was grateful. The thick concrete walls did much to shield her from the 'Cons' scanners - especially since they weren't looking for her in the first place - but the fact that there were only a few of them about made her more at ease. So far she'd only seen one, and that had been the one that they trailed back to this place - a messenger reporting on the status of the battle since all of the comms had mysteriously stopped working. Who might be responsible for that? As little as she knew about him, Jenna had officially decided that she loved Wheeljack.

She loved Mirage, too.

Really, she loved anyone willing to help her get Astrid back.

As she nosed around the halls like a rat, Jenna repeated the plan over and over again in her head. At the rate she forgot things, it was better to be safe than sorry. There were four stages to the Autobots' scheme. First was to initiate the 'trade' with Jazz and start a battle with the waiting Decepticon forces. Second was to jam Decepticon communications and follow a messenger or scout back to their headquarters. Thirdly, since the jamming unfortunately went both ways (and there was always the fear of being overheard by Soundwave), was for Mirage to find the control room and broadcast their location to Prime while Jenna found the prisoners and tried to spring them from their cell or cells. Fourth, Prime arrived with the Autobot forces he'd kept in reserve along with the human allies and stormed the Decepticon headquarters to rescue the prisoners and extract the two spies.

That part gave Jenna the tinglies. She was a _spy_.

The first two phases were complete. Now it was time to shine - and find her buddy... and buddy-to-be.

.O.O.O.

Ratchet watched over his scanners in mounting frustration as Astrid's heart gave yet another unstable flutter. _Slagging Decepticons and their Pit-spawned torture tactics from their glitched processors..._

Tap.

Ratchet's optics snapped over to the door.

Taptap... tap.

"Um. Hello?"

That was most definitely _not_ the voice of a Cybertronian, and certainly not that of a Decepticon.

"This is Autobot medic Ratchet," he said. "Identify yourself."

"This is - uh - human student Jenna," said the tapper. "I think that you - um - fixed my arm the other night. Is Astrid in there with you?"

"Affirmative." For a second there was silence, and Ratchet was just about ready to roll his optics and say 'yes' when the human responded.

"Ok, good, that's what I needed to know... could I ... talk with her?"

Ratchet growled. "Not unless you are telepathic."

"And why is that?" the voice said snappishly.

"Because she is unconscious." _Idiot_ was strongly implied at the end but left unsaid.

"Well that's not good."

"No it is not." If the human continued at this rate, Ratchet didn't plan on leaving the 'idiot' bit left unsaid for much longer.

"Well, I think I'm gonna need some help. I know I came to help you guys and all, but that keypad thingymahoochie is not anywhere near my height."

"Then it is fortunate that I am here to assist you."

"_Whoa!_ Holy crap, dude! You've _got_ to work on this whole invisible, sneaking up on people thing. You just about gave me a heart attack!"

"My sensors read that your heart was in no danger of malfunctioning."

Frustrated by the door and wall quite literally blocking his understanding of the conversation (and worried about the human lying in his hand), Ratchet bellowed, "IF THAT'S MIRAGE THEN YOU'D BETTER OPEN THE SLAGGING DOOR BEFORE I RIP YOUR CLOAKING MECHANISM OUT WITH MY BARE HANDS AND WELD IT OVER YOUR VOCALIZER!" There was silence on the other side of the door. "_NOW!_"

A furious series of beeps and clicks came from what Ratchet could only assume was the keypad as Mirage tried to override the controls. A minute or two of this ticked by, and then the door crashed open to reveal the Autobot saboteur and a gangly little human female. "It's about slagging time."

He moved to leave out of the cell but found himself intercepted by Mirage, who stood before him with hands outstretched. "Take off these restraints, will you, Mirage? We're wasting time."

"Give Astrid to me first."

"Are you out of your processor? At a time like this that's all you can think about? I'm the medic here, and believe me when I say the less we jostle her the more likely she'll actually survive this little trip. So get these things off of me, pick up the human there and let's _move out_."

Mirage hesitated, and Ratchet pressed his case. He cared about the fading little squishy, too, and he wouldn't let some upper class mech's high faluting sense of guardianship rights get in the way of what was best for his patient. "As a guardian you should want what is best for your charge, not what is best for yourself."

It took Mirage a few seconds, but then he nodded - jerkily - and severed Ratchet's bonds.

Both mechs shifted to battle stances and Jenna squeaked as the first round of explosions echoed throughout the base.

"Phase four has been initiated," said Mirage.

A/N: Alright, I beg your forgiveness for the occasional expository lump, but it's late and - let's face it, folks - this is fanfic. This is where my brain takes a holiday and has fun. Hopefully your brains do the same, otherwise there is no way you'll enjoy this sucker.

Replies to those without accounts:

Chio: Thanks for the review! Ha, yeah, I have way too much fun with lines like that. It's a mean, nasty and frequently cheezy thing to do, but I can't resist... I didn't realize that! I guess that's what happens when one takes a SIX MONTH hiatus... that'll teach me to update. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Sammy J: Thanks for both the review and the reminder! My brain thanketh thee. I am SO glad you got sucked in. Thank you for the prayers, and you'll be in mine as you start school. I hope you can keep up :( there are only two or three chapters left, so... yeah. Hope to hear from you again! And that your teachers don't kill you!

GodisGod!andIamnot...: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you made it, too. Thanks, I do have fun with that stuff, too. I always think of Vegitales, too! ha! Thank you very much, and I hope to hear from you again!

some dood: Thank you very much for the comments! I find stuff like that useful, and I really appreciate it. This stuff is like journaling for me. It's just what my brain puts out, so I edit it somewhat, and read through for gross errors or major cheeze, but I leave it at that. Unlike my other writing which I usually rip to shreds multiple times and piece together again. I would agree that the beginning is sort of inadaquate, but - as I said - my brain was going "Skip to the good parts!" and since I am generally a very lazy writer on first drafts, that's what I did. I am very glad you are still enjoying it, though! I hope to hear from you again!

Sienna: Thanks for the review! I make no promises. If I did then you wouldn't keep reading. ;) Lookin' forward to your next review!


	20. Of Puny Organics and Blood Donors

Disclaimer: Me no own and you no sue!

A/N: So, I have the perfect reason for being late this week: a wedding, the preparations FOR the wedding and the crash after the wedding. I seriously took a nap yesterday and slept from around two or three until six something. Yeah. Tired. But I saw Transformers 2 again today with my new, extended family! T'was fun, and my muse has a fresh jump-start.

**IMPORTANT!** So, here's the deal, there's probably only one chapter left in this baby, but your reviews still count, because IF YOU ARE INTERESTED I might be persuaded to write a sequel of sorts. There's a lot more I could do in the area of messing around with the complications of Mirage's and Astrid's relationship, and there are several other OCs I've been toying with in my head. So, if you want to see more of this after the next update, let me know. Thanks a million!

Chapter Twenty: Of Puny Organics and Blood Donors

Riding around the corridors of a secret base via Autobot was fun. Riding around the corridors of a secret base via Autobot in the middle of a battle was not. There was a lot of jostling involved when held in the swinging grip of a fifteen foot plus robot, and each running step jarred Mirage's squishy human passenger enough to make her slip a little against the smooth metal. Although she knew they could be graceful as anything when they wanted to be, she assumed that worry for his charge was serving as a little bit of a distraction. As it was, Jenna clung on in the constant fear that with the next jolt she would be sent sliding to her doom and her teeth rattled against each other at every bounce. And that wasn't the even the half of it.

With Mirage's cloaking ability he could sneak ahead and scout for Decepticon activity blocking the hostages' route, but every time he activated his freaky invisibility thingy Jenna felt like she was going to puke. Apparently being on the outside of a robot when it turned invisible had a different effect on her systems than being on the inside of a robot when it turned invisible. There was a weird, tingly, Jell-o-like sensation as the field rose up around her and it made her hair lie perfectly flat against her head, like it had been gelled. As the electrified Jell-o ensconced her, her skin tried to shrink inwards and her guts tried to go outwards, resulting in a terrible inside-out feeling that made her turn green with repressed bile. Mirage, being too swept up in the all-consuming importance of his mission, didn't notice that the squishy in his grip was changing colors, and Jenna began to wonder just how many seconds she would have left to live after she barfed all over him.

But Ratchet had mercy on her - _before_ she threw-up - and volunteered to take on a second passenger to free up Mirage for sneaking. Just as the bizarre medic had taken care of her broken arm by offering his assistance, he now took care of her aching stomach by offering her a lift. At least this time there were no bones to set. If there were she might have opted for the gut-curling sensations of turning invisible as the preferable option.

She couldn't help casting glances over at her fellow passenger as she rocked back and forth in Ratchet's sure grasp. Over the past several minutes of playing hanger-on with the giant robot medic, Jenna had been trying to convince herself that Astrid had _always_ been that pale, and that all those bandages were probably the result of a bored medic going treatment-happy on his patient. On that note, the reason she was so still and lifeless was because the robot had shot her up on some whacked-out alien tranquilizer. Yes, of course, that must be it. Now if only she could force herself to believe it.

Another explosion (all of which had been growing steadily louder and nearer as time passed by) rocked the hallway, and a spider dropped loose of its webby mooring to the ceiling. The hairy arachnid landed on the flattened surface of Jenna's hair and wobbled there for a minute to catch its balance. Once it had, it tethered itself to the top of her ear and began sliding down a thread of its silk. As it passed the corner of her eye Jenna noticed it - and screamed.

"Ohmigosh! Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, OHMIGOSH!" Flailing and shrieking she managed to swat it away, but its sticky silk snagged on her finger. The spider hung in midair, torn from its solid anchorage on the ear and swinging from Jenna's quivering finger. The bug seemed to decide that the ground was too distant a goal to reach in this precarious position, and began to climb towards the nearest safe harbor - which happened to be the finger it was attached to. When it began its rapid ascent in search of solid ground the shrieking and swatting began anew. But once Jenna had finally managed to get rid of the spider once and for all, she found herself facing another problem, and a much bigger and more menacing one at that.

This was not the day to be arachnaphobic.

Ratchet raised her to optic-level and gave the squealing youngling a hearty shake. As a medic he knew exactly how hard he could squeeze and exactly how fast he could move the organic without injuring her, and while he was careful not to overstep those boundaries, he did come close.

"What is the matter with you?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea where we are? This is the Decepticon base - or at least a temporary one - and those slaggers love nothing more than torturing puny organics such as yourself. The condition of your friend should be evidence enough of that."

"If it's not, then I will be more than happy to demonstrate."

Jenna gawked at the new player on the stage - a massive black and white mech with slanted red optics and shoulders a football player would envy. His physique didn't hold her attention long, though. At the sight of the new human clutched in Ratchet's hand, the mech clicked his long, sword-like claws together, and suddenly that portion of his anatomy had Jenna's undivided attention.

"Barricade," Ratchet said, "don't you have other places to be? Like the battle outside, perhaps?"

"The Decepticons are losing the battle," said Barricade. "I thought it would help our cause if we had a pair of incentives for the Autobots to back down. Now I find we have _three_ incentives."

"You always were a coward."

"By your definition. But, then, by mine you've always been a fool. Now hand me the organics."

"If you would've been here a little earlier I would've been happy to give you the spider that I found," said Jenna. "Spiders are organic, though I bet they taste like crap."

Barricade turned to look at her and flexed his long claws. They gathered up into a fist - one which could so easily crush her - and then loosened gradually in a long, languorous stretch. "I will have fun playing with this one, especially if she screams as much as she talks."

From where she was clasped firmly against Ratchet's chest, Astrid shifted and moaned, perhaps at the sound of her tormentor's voice. Whether or not this was true, Barricade seemed to believe it was, and the look that came into his optics was purely predatory. "Give me the organics."

"No." Ratchet tucked Jenna and Astrid closer to himself. A shudder ran down Jenna's entire frame, and he gave her the gentlest squeeze he could. As annoying as Astrid's 'roommate' seemed to be there were some things that no youngling - no matter how obnoxious - deserved to suffer.

Barricade advanced a step, and Ratchet matched him, taking a step back. The monster took another step forward, and the medic set his two charges gingerly on the floor. "Watch over her," he ordered Jenna, in reference to his weaker patient. Then he turned to meet Barricade. It was not a fair fight - nowhere near, in fact - but Ratchet would do what was necessary to do his sworn duty as an Autobot. Regardless of his lack of weapons and the fact that he had already had many of his motor functions crippled by Soundwave, he charged the Decepticon and managed to land the first hit.

As the two giants battled behind her, Jenna fluttered over Astrid, trying to take her pulse or check for fever when she knew that such gestures were useless at best. If her heart stalled, Ratchet would be the first to know, not Jenna, and even if it did stop beating there was nothing Jenna could do to get it started again. She solemnly swore to learn CPR the first chance she got. Until then, Astrid just wasn't allowed to go into de-fib. As for the fever... well, desperate times call for desperately far-out ideas, and Jenna couldn't think of anything else to do in her quest to alleviate her own fears. There was no fever. That was a good thing, right? Even if she did have a fever, though, would her skin feel hot in this cold weather? Maybe she should check again.

A yowl sounded down the hall and Jenna's eyes popped up from her ghostly-pale friend to the mechanical cat-thing standing at the end of the hall. Ratchet let out some very unhappy dial-up tones behind her, and Jenna staggered up from her knees to her feet. She had no _idea_ what she was going to do once she got to her feet, but she figured it was better to face off against evil, one-eyed cat beasts while standing upright.

"Um, Mr. Ratchet, sir? I think we have a problem over here."

More angry dial-up. "Slag it! Move, you little idiot! Get Astrid and move!"

"I can't _move_ her!" Jenna shouted, her eyes riveted the kitty cat from her nightmares. "She's too heavy. I am not a forklift! And go _where_? Under your feet or to Hello Kitty? There's nowhere _to_ go!"

"Just _move!_"

Frantically, Jenna grabbed Astrid under the shoulders and tried hauling her towards the medic. Of the two options she figured a Decepticon and an Autobot was a better deal than a Decepticon and no Autobot at all.

The cat seemed to disagree.

It snarled and snapped at her. For about five seconds all Jenna's brain could compute as she continued to tug at Astrid along was, _'Holy _crap_! It's a robot with _teeth_!'_

Said robot-with-teeth was not happy about having its query moved (even by so little as Jenna was moving) and tensed for a lunge. Jenna screamed for the medic and pulled so hard that she nearly popped her shoulder out of its socket as the cat 'Con dipped, sank, and sprung.

Then - it stopped. Nothing too astonishing about that, but what _was_ astonishing was that it stopped in midair, and it seemed just as confused as the on looking human was. It tensed suddenly, and tried to swat out at something, but the invisible something it was swatting at was faster and slammed the viscous 'Con against the wall until it stopped twitching.

Jenna gawked, then a light came on behind her eyes. And she smiled. "Huzzah, Mirage! Show the demon cat who's boss."

Too absorbed in his attack on Ravage to even register Jenna's cheers, Mirage pounded the unholy monstrosity to within an inch of the Pit. Only when Ravage's optic was cracked and flickering did he slow his assault enough to hiss, "Astrid Fenner is _my_ charge, you glitch-ridden slagger, and _no one_ harms. My. Charge. If you ever come within a fifty mile radius of her ever again I promise you, you will regret the day you were sparked."

Spinning, he hurled the symbiote's half-wrecked body against the opposite wall, satisfaction filling his spark at the sound of metal snapping and warping on impact. The Decepticon slid to the floor, and Mirage turned to assist Ratchet and slag the other glitch that had tortured his human. Soundwave was out of his reach for the moment, but his time would come. As for Barricade, well, his time had run out ever since he slashed Mirage's charge to within an inch of her life.

He fought ruthlessly, and so did Ratchet. Both mechs went for every weak point in the armor and sensitive bundle of wiring they could lay their servos on. While it was usually Mirage's approach to dispose of his enemies cleanly and carefully - as a spy - he let the burning fury that blurred his processor take complete control as he laid into the black and white Decepticon. A quick shot to the spark chamber or processor was too good for this mech.

Very soon, the outnumbered 'Con seemed to realize that he would not be winning against the two furious Autobots, and shortly after that it appeared to dawn on him that he would be lucky to escape this encounter in one piece. So, like the true Decepticon he was, he decided to fall back, wait for the tide to turn in his favor, and lie low in dark corners until he was summoned forth once again. He tore off down the halls in his vehicle mode, vanishing from sight in under five seconds.

"Slagger!" Ratchet shouted after him. "Come back here so I can finish tearing you a new exhaust port!"

Although his optics were still fiercely lit and his processor was running on battle mode, Mirage still possessed the deep, inner control that it took to survive centuries of life as a spy. He burned to race after Barricade and reduce him to a pile of debris and oil, but there were other, more important things to be accomplished first. He placed a hand on Ratchet's shoulder and pulled him around to see the two organics waiting for them a few yards away. Ratchet immediately cooled. In a single step, the medic had reached Astrid. His optics and scanners passed over his patient, and judging by his expression they gave him no good news.

Jenna, however, kept a sharp eye on their surroundings. No way was she being snuck up on by a creepy robo-dog or whatever next. "The kitty's gone," she said. And he was. During the battle between Barricade and the two Autobots, Ravage had taken the chance to slip away and lick his wounds closer to his master. A spotty trail of leaked energon and lubricant showed where he had limped off.

"Who gives a slag?" said Mirage. Turning to Ratchet he asked, "How is Astrid?"

"She's dying, that's how she's doing," said Ratchet. "I trust Prime's grand plan involved human paramedics?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then we need to get her to them. Now. Earlier would be better, but now is all we have. Let's move out."

Once again, Ratchet scooped up his little cell-mate and Mirage bent to pick up Jenna, who was eternally grateful that the spy did not try turning invisible again. Then they were off. The corridors blew by, and the two Autobots loped through the Decepticon headquarters so quickly that a breeze ruffled Jenna's hair.

The first team they ran into was Lennox's. Jeremy was not present. Taking into consideration all that had happened, the captain had thought it best to leave Jeremy with the soldiers - Autobot and human - that had been left to guard the base and the college students. When he saw Astrid's condition he was glad he had made that decision.

"Call in a paramedic team, _now!_" he ordered Epps. The order was hardly needed, though, as Epps had whipped out his radio the second he saw the massive forms of Ratchet and Mirage appear down the hall.

"Two teams are on their way," he said.

"The base is nearly secured," Lennox said to the two mechs. "We just have a few more hallways and rooms that the Decepticons added deeper in this mess and we'll be finished. It's pretty unlikely that we'll meet any more resistance, though. Most were either out battling our decoys or came out to fight us at the gates."

"Where are they now?" Mirage asked. "Were any prisoners taken?" He was hoping against hope that either Soundwave had been pinned down and kept from leaving or that Barricade had been intercepted.

"Gone. No prisoners. They either went down fighting or took off when things got too hot. The jammer stopped working about a quarter of an hour ago, and all the 'Cons in the decoy battle retreated once their buddies filled them in on the situation out here. Optimus thinks they have a prearranged meeting place, but not even he knows where that is."

"How far away are those paramedics?" Mirage asked.

"Not far, they should be here any - here they are!" The two teams appeared around the corner, carting a rolling stretcher and armed with as many emergency medical supplies as they could tote. Ratchet very grudgingly handed over _his_ patient and made it very clear that once he was repaired himself he would be taking over Astrid's care. He was not so foolish or arrogant, though, that he interfered with the humans as they swarmed around the girl he had so recently tended. As the medics prepared to depart and ship Astrid to the nearest hospital, Ratchet made _very_ sure to make it crystal clear that should his patient not be breathing when he came for her, heads would roll. To their credit, the paramedics barely even batted an eyelash at the large mech's bloody threats.

Having secured the hostages, Lennox's team fell back with the two mechs and the human medical personnel. Lennox forced himself to keep his hands on his weapon and his attention on their surroundings, though his fingers itched to reach out and cover the white hand strapped to the gurney. But there would be time for that later. How many times had he had to stand by, on alert and ready for action, as a teammate or civilian slowly slipped away right beside him?

He blinked twice to clear the sweat from his eyes.

Why did it always have to be the kids that landed in the M.A.S.H. tents and emergency rooms?

.O.O.O.

The gurney wheels rattled over the hospital floor, their racket drawing a steadily increasing number of followers. Most wore the white and pastel scrubs of medical personnel, but there were several others dressed in dusty military uniforms and dirty street clothes padding along beside them. William Lennox hurried along on one side of the patient, and Jenna quick-stepped on the other. Jenna had acted on the urge that Lennox had repressed earlier that day and her hand was wrapped firmly around Astrid's limp one, despite the pestering nurses and doctors trying to chase her off.

Coming towards them down the hall was another pair of soldiers - Bobby Epps and Jeremy Fenner. As always, Epps had been ready with the radios and had rushed ahead of the ambulance in order to pin Jeremy down and get him to his sister. Like Will, he was a family man, and the idea of someone doing this to a part of his family made him sick. Jeremy was one of theirs, and making sure the guy was up to speed was the least he could do.

"Is this the next of kin?" one of the doctors snapped as the two soldiers met the gurney. Every since the caravan of mismatched soldiers, students and Autobots had reached the hospital the poor staff had been trying desperately to find a family member with the authority to take care of Astrid's decisions while she was in this state.

"Yeah, this is the guy, Jeremy Fenner," said Epps. "How's Astrid doing?"

"Mr. Fenner," the doctor said, ignoring Epps for the moment, "we need your permission to operate, and we also need a viable blood donor. We're examining our supply at the moment, but it would be faster to do a direct transfusion if you are of the same blood type. Family is always best, and it would be less likely that her body would reject the blood if it came from you. Do you know if you're compatible?"

"We're both O positive," Jeremy said. He actually began rolling up his sleeve as he walked. By the looks of things he'd willingly slash his arm open right there in the hall if the doctors told him to. Epps tried to reach discreetly for the young man's combat knife when he wasn't looking.

"Excellent," the doctor said. "If you'd please come with us, Mr. Fenner. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask the rest of you to wait out in the lounge until further notice."

Glancing back over his shoulder, Jeremy added, "I'll send word out to you guys, ok?" Then the gurney and it's mob of doctors and nurses vanished behind a pristine white door, and the rest were left standing in the gleaming hallway.

.O.O.O.

Jenna was patched up by the military doctors and left in peace to finger her cast and let her stomach settle. All they'd really had to do was slap on a few band-aids and some disinfectant. Jenna imagined that it would take a lot more than that to put Astrid back together. Her stomach had stopped rolling with the jogging Transformer bounce that it had learned from Mirage and Ratchet before she even reached the hospital, but then the stress and fear of whether Astrid would even make it through the surgeries had seized hold of her guts and refused to let go. Now she felt nauseous, cramped and light-headed all at once. She wanted to purge her entire system of all the dark feelings that roiling around in the pit of her stomach, but all she succeeded in doing was purging herself of her last meal.

Eventually she figured out that being alone with her feelings probably wasn't the best idea at present, so she joined up with the military men. Her luck, however, had apparently been used up in the rescue mission, and she found no solace with the grim faces and low conversations filling the waiting room. She reasoned next that fresh air might do her some good.

It was only after she'd been sitting against the wall - between two tastefully placed shrubs - for a good fifteen minutes, sniveling and shivering with the wind in her ears, that she remembered most of the cars she was looking at in the parking lot probably weren't cars at all. She froze for a second and wondered how well they could see in car mode, and whether they'd been 'watching' her this whole time. Or monitoring. Or whatever.

One of the nearest cars, the Pontiac Solstice that she remembered as 'Jazz', seemed to catch on to her train of thought and popped open the passenger side door.

"I wouldn't mind some company," his rumbly car-voice said. "If you'd like to climb on in the two of us could talk for a while. Doesn't seem to be much of anything else to do."

Jenna slid up the wall, dusted off the seat of her pants and adjusted her ponytail. On the way to the car she wondered if Jazz could feel through the cushions of his seats, and if any of the mulch she'd missed would irritate him. When she climbed in he was quiet though, even though Jenna could see bits of dirt and shredded wood clinging to her jeans.

She'd never been a car junkie, and she'd been too stressed when she last met the Autobots to memorize all of their car modes. Heck, she probably hadn't even seen all of them. Time for a lesson."How many of you guys are here?" she asked.

"Five," said Jazz. "There's me, Sunny and Sides, Jolt and Mirage. We're the only flashy cars in this place, so it shouldn't be hard to see 'em. Jolt's the only one without a personal connection to your buddy, but Optimus wanted there to be enough of us here to put up a real fight if any of the 'Cons came back for seconds. Give it twenty four hours and there'll be six, though. I doubt the entire Decepticon army could keep Ratchet away from one of his patients once he's been fixed up. Wheeljack'll have his hands full."

Jenna craned her head back and peered through the rear window. Sure enough, the other transformers weren't hard so spot at all. Most of the Autobots were parked near to Jazz, just scattered enough to be able to keep an eye on the rest of the lot, but one was parked on the far side under a drooping oak. It sat there alone in the dark with all of its lights off, and Jenna could almost taste the waves of depression rolling off of it.

"Who's by the tree?"

"Mirage."

"Why is Mirage over there by himself?"

"Aw, well, 'Rage has some major issues to sort out right now," Jazz said. "Understandable, I guess. He finally managed to free his ward and now she's in emergency surgery. I'd be upset, too. I _am_."

A devilish little grin spun out across Jenna's face. "Hey, Jazz?" she said.

"Hmm?"

"Does Mirage need a hug?"

For a second the cab went quiet, and Jenna could have sworn she heard the Solstice's electric brain _stall_. Then he laughed. Hard.

"Yeah. Mirage, he definitely needs a hug, just not from you."

"Astrid will just have to get better so she can give him one, then."

A/N: So? Like, hate, love? Drop a review in the donation box below! This is gonna be a busy week, so unless you want an EXTREMELY delayed update, it would be wise to keep up the encouragement.

Replies to those without accounts:

Chio: Thanks for the review! Thanks for the compliments, I'm trying my darnest on this one. Oh dear, no kicking shall be required, I assure you. Thanks again!

D00dlebug: Thanks for the review! Here's a fresh chapter for ya!

HiddenWithinMyself: Why thank you very much! Here you go!

Broken Shift Key: Thank you very much for the review! That's sort of incorporated into the next chapter, actually, though not to the extreme I don't think. But, yeah, I wouldn't let Ratchet out of my sight, either. Thank you, thank you, and I hope to hear from you again!


	21. Of 'Rages and 'Rids

Disclaimer: Shall we sing it together one last time? Do let's. I no own and you no sue, dooda, dooda!

A/N: **I regret to inform you all that I shall not be able to reply to any reviews from the previous chapter due to time restraints.** Sad, but there it is. I am so, so sorry, but I am moving into my dorm tomorrow and I'm using some of my valuable packing time tonight in order to get this up for you all. So... please forgive me. On a brighter note, see the ending A/N.

Chapter Twenty-One: Of 'Rages and 'Rids

_Beep...beep...beep..._

Was that her alarm clock? _Beep..._No way. Her alarm was nowhere close to that soft.

_Beep...beep...beep..._

That beeping was awfully annoying, though.

With her eyes still closed, Astrid reached out to slap the snooze button.

Two things made her jerk her arm back. First was the intense, white-hot pain in her shoulder and second was the sound of flesh meeting flesh with an accompanying yelp.

"Astrid?! Are you awake?"

"Mmm." Internally she was going 'ow'.

"What's wrong with you?! The first thing you do after a two week coma is _slap me?_"

"Well she definitely knows it's you at any rate," a second voice said. "Just like old times."

"Shut-up, Jenna."

"No, _you_ shut-up. You're the one she slapped."

"How about both of you shut-up before I kick you out of the room?" said a much grumpier voice. "Astrid? Are you conscious?"

"Mnoo..." Why wouldn't they just _all_ shut-up and let her sleep?

"Good, good." No, not good. Now something was jostling her. "I'm going to check you over and make sure everything is healing as it should be."

_Healing?_ What?

Frowning, Astrid opened her eyes, trying to make them stop fluttering against the light.

"Jenna, if you would please dim the lights," the grumpy voice said, though a bit less grumpy now.

The glare subsided a little and Astrid finally managed to force her eyes open. Standing over her was a pair of very familiar faces. "Jeremy? Ratchet?"

A third face - Jenna's - popped into view with a face-cracking grin. "Good morning, sunshine! So glad to see you return to the land of the waking. Ratchet was getting cranky. It happens to crotchety old mechs, you know."

Ratchet's holoform glared at Jenna, but she was far from cowed. Neither contestant seemed too keen on being the first to give up the staring contest - and far too absorbed in it to make conversation - so it was Jeremy who finally broke the silence.

"So... how's she healing, sir?"

Without breaking eye contact with Jenna, Ratchet replied, "She'll live, thank the Matrix. It will take time, but she should recover, though I doubt she will ever be able to participate in any of those activities you call 'professional sports'."

"Astrid always hated sports, so that's fine," Jenna said, also maintaining her stare.

Ratchet continued to glare, and Jenna continued to reciprocate. Astrid was getting a headache just watching.

"Well, if everything's fine," Jeremy said, "could I have a moment with my sister?"

"You've already had several," Ratchet said.

"He means _alone_, genius," Jenna said. A holographic eyebrow rose, and with a dramatic groan Jenna glanced away from Ratchet to where Astrid was resting on the bed. She gave her roommate a wink and began tugging at Ratchet's sleeve as she started moving towards the door. "Let's go on out to the waiting room; I'm sure the guys'll want to hear that Astrid's awake and slapping already."

"It was a reflexive action," Ratchet said. "I hardly believe that counts."

"Oh, whatev..."

The door closed behind them, gifting the room with a blessed space of silence. It took a great deal of effort for Astrid to keep from crying after the medic, and in order to keep herself silent she nearly ground her teeth to stubs. Logic told her that she was safe now, and her heart told her that she was happy to have this moment with her brother, but her instincts were screaming bloody murder at the removal of their security blanket. The animalistic sense of self preservation told her that without Ratchet she was in danger, that a Decepticon could just waltz in and take her again. Without the medic her wounds would burst open and she would die in an instant. And although none of these things happened, she still feared.

Her brother took the reaction in stride, though. His hands curled around one of the fists she'd buried in the bed sheets and stroked it until it relaxed as he gradually guided her eyes away from the door with bantering conversation.

"Those two banded together a few days ago," Jeremy said. "Jenna's been here ever since the doctors started clearing non-family members to visit, and Ratchet's been here since Wheeljack finished patching him up. I think they started liking each other against their will in order to survive in the same room for so long."

Slowly, Astrid responded. First she gave her brother's hand a squeeze, and then she tried to remember the use of her tongue.

"Looks like Ratch's taken a shining to Jen," she said. Her voice was soft; her ribs still hurt like anything.

Jeremy snorted. "How could you tell?"

"He didn't try chucking anything at her head when she challenged his authority."

"Maybe he's just saving that for later. I heard he whacks her over the head with all kinds of junk when they're in the lounge. Probably doesn't want to upset your delicate condition."

"Just means he likes her a _lot_."

"He'd smack you for saying that if he heard you, you know."

"Of course. Think he's gonna be her guardian?"

"Too early to tell."

They sat very still for a couple minutes, and the empty air was filled only with the steady beep of the machines monitoring Astrid. Then Jeremy lunged forward, took Astrid's face between his hands and said, "Don't you _ever_ do that again."

.O.O.O.

Astrid's awakening had caused a small but happy uproar in the lounge, where many of the off-duty soldiers from Lennox's team spent much of their time. When the doctors had finally given Jeremy the boot and he had joined the other soldiers he had been met with enough slaps on the back to turn his skin raw. But that had been several hours ago, and by this time the lights had been dimmed, visiting hours had ended and Ratchet finally had his chance to evaluate how his patient was doing after her first day conscious.

He was taking note of the most recent changes in Astrid's blood pressure listed on the patient's chart when a hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed onto his hologram's wrist. For an instant he forgot himself and nearly dropped the clipboard to go into a defensive stance, but he remembered himself in time to prevent the error and he instead set the clipboard back on its hook at the foot of the bed and laid his free hand over the white knuckles digging into his false flesh.

"Astrid? It's Ratchet. You are perfectly safe, relax."

"I know," her grip eased just the slightest bit, but did not fall slack. "But please stay?"

For one of the few times since he'd created the hologram, Ratchet contorted the facial features into the up-curve of a human smile. He patted her hand and enjoyed the rare sensation of the holographic skin wrinkling at the corners of his eyes.

"You could never force me to leave," he said. "Rest easy. I will remain while you sleep, and I will be here when you wake."

It was a very good thing, he mused as Astrid began to drift off again, that she desired his presence nearby. Things might have grown complicated if she felt otherwise, as he had no intention of letting her out of scanner-range for a very long time.

.O.O.O.

It didn't take long for Astrid's room to be filled with cards and flowers, all sent with the written or implied message: "Get well soon." With the gifts came a steady stream of visitors. Lennox and Epps were still in the area doing damage control and chasing down the occasional lead on nearby Decepticon activity. Jeremy was granted emergency leave to stay with his sister, and of course Jenna and Ratchet refused to be pried from their posts.

While Ratchet was still recovering himself from his ordeal at the hands of Soundwave - and was therefore granted the mechanoid equivalent of medical leave - Jenna's excuse was much shakier, and nearly ten times a day she made the trip down the hall to the nearest payphone to continue the on-going argument with her parents. When Astrid suggested she go back to her life for a while, Jenna simply replied, "My school is gone, I have no car, my best friend just got out of critical condition and my family is in another state at present. Do you really think I have the _brains_ to explain all that to them? They think the campus was destroyed by a freakin' _gas leak_. And I'm injured. You _know_ my mom, 'Rid. Once she sees this cast I have exactly one minute to live. Besides, there are giant alien robots..." Ratchet's hologram cleared his throat, "..._mechs_ out here. Can you see me just skipping merrily back to suburbia after something like this? No way. I'm totally in."

"'Totally in' what exactly?" Ratchet had asked.

Jenna replied with a sniff and a turned shoulder, but Astrid saw through the snoot and caught her hand. "I get what you mean, Jen."

She was rewarded with a cocky grin."Good. If _you_ didn't then I might start wondering if I was really talking to a room of idiots or if I was the real dummy."

"You might start wondering?"

"Shut-up, Ratchet. No one asked you."

Of the Autobots, Ratchet and Jazz were the most frequent visitors to Astrid's recovery room. Ratchet was there almost constantly - besides the times when the medic was forced to recharge by his fellow transformers outside - and Jazz stopped in at least once a day to check up on both his present charge and the one that had grown-up and moved on. Even Prime stopped briefly when his duties permitted to offer his sympathies and express his relief that Astrid was alive and whole. It took much longer for the twins to be cleared by Ratchet, but they eventually weaseled their way in and brought Astrid a carton of chocolate ice cream to help counterbalance the noxious poison called hospital food. Ratchet was beyond livid when he found out, but Astrid slept very well that night, and actually had a smile on her face as she dreamed for the first time since her captivity, so the medic didn't punish the two as harshly as he might have.

But there was one face that did not make an appearance beside Astrid's hospital bed, and that was Mirage. She had learned from Jazz that the spy was still parked outside the building and on duty, but he always slipped off during his hours of rest and didn't take the opportunity to come and say hello. To say that Astrid was upset was a mild understatement, and to say that Ratchet was angry was a serious one.

Several times over the course of the five weeks Astrid was restricted to bed rest, the medic would sneak off while she was sleeping or distracted to do goodness knew what to the reluctant guardian. Jeremy insisted that Ratchet didn't always stay in the parking lot with Mirage, but Astrid was sure he was giving her guardian a long distance tongue-lashing at all hours anyway. It made her a little angry, actually. If Mirage had decided that she was too much trouble after this whole affair, then so be it. This was her business and her guardian's, not the medic's. What right did he have to go sticking his nose into this mess? None. And she would appreciate it if he would just keep out of her relationships. In fact, she made up her mind to tell him so the next time he made an appearance. Then he stormed into the room, fuming about something in his native tongue (a strange thing to hear coming from a man like Ratchet's hologram) and she forgot all about it.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Your fragging governments and their paperwork is enough to wear on even my nerves. All my centuries of life, and I've never seen anything so ridiculously and needlessly complicated as all this slag."

"Oh."

"Why do you even care anyway? You should be asleep. Close your eyes and recharge. Now."

And she complied.

.O.O.O.

Frustrated by her lack of progress in the simple physical therapy exercises Ratchet had given her to work on, Astrid flopped back on her pillows with a moody scowl. Really, she shouldn't even be trying to practice the exercises at the moment - according to both medic and doctors she needed her rest at such times - but her impatience was too mighty a foe to overcome. Maybe she'd regret it later, maybe she wouldn't. All she cared about at the moment, though, was forgetting that a newborn kitten could beat her in a wrestling match and reaching her cup of ice chips.

The stretch to reach the obstinate cup pulled at her stitches, and she fell back again with the Styrofoam trophy in her hand and a grimace on her face. Owie. Oh, well, ice chips cured all, as she had discovered many, many days ago courtesy of Ratchet. It was like drinking but better: there were no straws to mess with, they didn't make as much of a mess if spilled, and the deliciously cool trickle that dripped down her throat as they melted was to die for.

Unfortunately, when she looked down, all she found in the bottom of the cup was a shallow pool of water. Much slower than she had reached for it, she set the cup back on the table beside her bed. Her bottom lip trembled and she squinted her eyes to see through the gathering mist.

Oh, for the love of...

Was this what she'd been reduced to? Crying over melted ice chips? Honestly, now, a month in the life of a DID and she was really starting to act like one. She needed out of this hospital. She needed away from the doctors and the nurses. Maybe she could convince Ratchet to take her out somewhere. Sunlight was very good for humans, right? Well, in mild doses. Hospitals stank and she didn't want to come back with a case of skin cancer.

Her spiraling thoughts were broken by the crisp tap of a Styrofoam cup being set down by her elbow. She blinked and looked up into the perfectly pale face of Mirage's hologram. The Snowball, Jenna called him. It fit.

"Oh. Hi."

"Hello."

The hologram turned to pull over a chair and Astrid's hands fluttered to her hair. It was greasy as heck. She would definitely have to rope Jenna into helping her wash it later. What must she look like now, though?

Wait.

She was worrying about how she looked when the Snowball paid her a visit for the first time since... since their argument the night she was kidnaped? No way. The jerk deserved worse. She shoved her hands back into her lap.

Once he had arranged himself in the round hospital chair, Mirage folded his hands over his knees. Then he moved them to the arms of the chair. Then back to his lap. Then to the table and then back to his lap. Was he _fidgeting?_

"I fear I must..." Mirage stopped, closed his mouth, rethought his words and tried again, "I believe I ought to..." he tried again, "...I owe you an apology."

Although Astrid was close to bursting out of her skin, she bit her lip and kept the raging, injured dragon in her chest on its leash. He owed her more than _one_, she thought.

"That night... I spoke rashly... and foolishly, and I ask for your forgiveness."

"Wait, are you talking about the 'idiot human' comments from... from before?"

Mirage bowed his head. "I am."

"Mirage! I don't care about those!"

His eyes flickered - much as his optics did when he was confused - and he frowned. "You do not?"

"No! You big idiot. You were worried, and you were tired, and you were scared, and if one of my friends had done some of the stuff I did, I'd chew them out, too if I was in your place."

A little light kindled in the depths of his deep blue eyes."So you are not angry with me?"

"Of course not."

"But you were."

"For a little. Then, well, other things happened."

The light in Mirage's eyes was steadily growing. "Then... I am forgiven?"

"For that."

The light died. "I have committed another error?"

"Yeah. A big one."

"What is it?"

"Think."

"I have thought, I have thought very much these past few weeks, Astrid. Please tell me."

Astrid straightened in her bed and breathed heavily through her nose. "YOU DIDN'T COME TO SEE ME FOR **FIVE WEEKS**, YOU MORON! How do you think I felt, knowing that you were sitting right outside and didn't want to bother coming in to see me? I thought you didn't want me anymore! I thought YOU hated ME! And if I didn't keep smiling all the time my brother got worried, and Lennox got all frowny, and Jenna threatened to kill you for me, and Ratchet ran extra scans, and _I missed you_."

Before she could continue her rant, she found herself enveloped in a cloud of silvery white finery. Mirage had his arms tucked around her with her face pressed to his shoulder and one hand supporting the back of her head as she suddenly released all the tears and screams of anguish for her missing guardian that she'd tried so hard to suppress. It was impossible to hold back with him there, holding her like that. The way he stroked her hair and whispered gentle words in a language she couldn't understand just tore open all the hidden pockets in her heart she had filled with her anxiety and worry.

When she finally surfaced from the depths of Mirage's jacket and wiped her eyes, she found the hologram smiling at her, and she gave him a very weak and watery glare. "Why are you so happy?"

Still smiling, he gently drew her face to his so they were resting forehead to forehead, and as he stroked her hair back behind her ear he said, "Because I missed you, too."

Astrid almost choked on the laugh that tried to bubble up her throat around the tears, and she clamped the Snowball in a good, tight hug. His arms came back around her, and they stayed that way for a while, each enjoying the presence they had so sorely missed.

After a while, Astrid finally roused herself enough to say, "You know, silver and blue are my favorite colors."

A/N: So, yes, I will be doing a sequel. And, no, Astrid and Mirage do not get to skip off into the sunset after this one. Oh, and of course there will be fresh plot in drama as well as old stuff that I plan to build on, so it shouldn't be too dull. A friend of mine is putting together a trailer for it, so check my profile page every now and again for the link.

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and kept me going! I hope to see you when I post the sequel (eventually)! Keep a sharp eye out! And God bless!**


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